Once
by Dreamy Loner
Summary: "A day can amount to a thousand years. Souls part and unite. We'll meet again someday."If you can only live your life once, what will you do for the one you love? Seven interlocking romantic tales that follow one another, all linked together by the mystery of one cursed idol. Splendid/Giggles, Flippy/Flaky, Lifty/Shifty, Sniffles/Nutty, Lumpy/Mole, Lammy/Pickles, Petunia/Handy.
1. Lovers of Infinity: Spencer & Giselle

**A/N: **Hi there, this is a recent project I am working on. It is a lot different from my usual fictions because it takes another approach to explore the characters in a twisted way. The story setting this time is much more realistic and it is inspired by one of the novels I read for my college studies. There are a few points to note here.

- This fiction is sub-divided into five independent tales. They look separated from one another but they are related and interlocked at some point.

- The characters in this fiction are granted different names to indicate their new identities.

- Each tale explores the incarnated forms of various characters from HTF, in the most realistic, mortal way.

- Theses stories take place in a fictional, artificial world, so the names of some places are all made up, but they bear resemble to reality.

- The first story revolves around the incarnated forms of Splendid and Giggles. Their incarnated forms take the identities of Spencer. S and Giselle. C.

- The corresponding names of other characters based on HTF series are as follows.

Spencer-Splendid  
>Giselle- Giggles<br>Fillip- Flippy  
>Shayne- Splendont<br>Lars- Lumpy  
>Mabel- Mole (Genderbended)<br>Rosa- Russel (Genderbended)  
>Petunia-Petunia<br>Cody- Cuddles

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1: Lovers of Infinity<strong>

**From the perspective of Spencer Squirrels and Giselle Chipmunk**

**~xXx~**

**Letter I: Sent by Spencer Squirrels to Fillip Bears, on 7****th**** August, 2015**

Dear Fillip,

Apology for the delay. Hope everything is going well in your military training. I have just got time to check the mail box recently and was speechlessly stunned to find your parcel. Oh, always a meticulous mate you are. I am deeply impressed by that aboriginal handicraft. I like the African vase very much and I know Giselle will marvel at its exquisiteness too. I wish I have traveled along with you. Amazing it would be to experience all these thrilling adventures on the forsaken outskirts. Man, must I say, no training on earth could be compared to my grueling days in this town. There is a time when I consider my sanity on serious peril. Life as a grown-up is as suffocating and burdensome as the old ones have always warned. I still reminisce about our younger days as carefree lads, when skiving off duties brought no such consequence as deprivation and when falling in love was like waltzing in a paradise.

Giselle has been nagging me incessantly about changing my job. She has a morbid disliking towards my boss, Lars, which I could never comprehend why. As far as I know, he is just an aloof imbecile. With that level of intelligence, he can't even compete with a swine, no offense! Anyway, Giselle detests him, simply because he is the reason for my overtime. She hates being left alone at home. She has this berserk belief about my declining loyalty and interest in her. She even suspects that I'm having an affair with Lars' new part-time secretary. I deny so, of course! Tell me, bro, how hideous and obnoxious could a woman's paranoia get? Speaking of fidelity, I ought to be the one moping in grievance. Truth be told, her resorting to my brother for comfort after our major fall out years ago still haunts me. Every time I dreamed of seeing that disinherited brother of mine forcing himself on my dear wife, gosh, just imagine the ache in my heart, Fillip! She still weeps at nights, usually wallowing in self-accusation and remorse. No matter how many times I tell her, that I have forgiven her, wholly and unconditionally, she wouldn't believe me. And it certainly doesn't help much with our neighbour next door expecting a baby next month. Her nightmare of our poor lost child never ceases. I wish I could cradle her and pacify her like I used to, but I find it increasingly impossible and challenging to reach her heart. She barely listens to what I say. There is only her, croaking and grumbling all day. Dude, I am truthfully exhausted. I don't know how much longer I can hold on until I, too, am subsumed by lunacy and anxiety. The pills are able to control her depression to some extent but her paranoia is cureless and almost indefinite. And I know too well I am the culprit of her everlasting suffrage. I am striving to revive our love, you see, but all my effort seems futile.

Picked up something intriguing from a bargaining bin yesterday. Something carved like an ancient Egyptian artifact. You know I have frenzy for peculiar stuff. Guess Giselle would prefer a diamond ring to a platinum idol doll. But man, where do I dig out so much cash for a ring. I owe her a lot, to be frank. Even to date, we haven't properly taken any shots for a wedding album. A girl's dream is to be wedded in the church dressed like a velvety swan, being led down the aisle by her father and kissed by the husband upon the blessing of the bells. I have never been able to fulfill her dream of having our ceremony in Hawaii, by the spectacular seashore under the rimless azure sky. And now, I'm stuck with a discounted antique, hoping that it would bring this distorted family some unexpected luck.

Remember, my dearest buddy, though it's brutal of me to say this, love is such a beautiful fantasy when you're courting that girl of your dream. Don't get yourself carried away too readily. Everything shatters when marriage is scarred by adultery and betrayal, life ruined by social reality and responsibilities. Only when you find the truly special one, don't sacrifice your entire heart and dedicate your soul to the worthless.

I still love Giselle. I have never yet stopped loving her once.

Pray for me when you can. I doubt you have time to write to me any sooner. I wish you all the best for the next mission, bro. And until you return with victory, I I will, as you've encouraged me to, try my hardest to resume my relationship with Giselle.

P.S. And send my regards to your comrades as well. Is that French guy named Mouse or Mickey or Mickey Mouse? Ha! I forgot!

Best,

Spencer

7.8.15

* * *

><p><span><strong>The Hidden Journal of Spencer Squirrels<strong>

It was 11th August, 2015, approximately 2 p.m. in the afternoon.

Time ceased, the moment our gazes interlocked with one another, our fates entwined.

It was a sweltering day. Beads of sweats trickled down her porcelain skin, shimmering alongside those sparkly pearls streaming down her eyes. She glared at me, seething in exasperation, her complexions revealing nothing but sheer malice. I was unable to decode then, her imminent sentiments. I was oblivious and yes, I had always been.

_Why is she stirring up such a fuss now?_

I ignored her baleful stares.

_An old girly trick_.

My pride was carefully safeguarded. I refused to concede my defeat.

I had no clue how our quarrel even got triggered in the beginning. And if anything had ever warned us about our deteriorating relationships, I might have started noticing our aggravation sooner. I was never the vigilante kind though.

_Insincere_, she called me.

Imprudent. Boorish. A hypocrite I was.

_You tricked me! You fooled me! You cheated on me! You vowed to protect me. You pledged to love only me. _

I still remembered our first summer encounter. The memory lay crystal clear in my head as my lucid dreams would be. A fantasy they would call it, of a young maiden stumbling upon a charming prince. Only, this prince was just a pathetic self-claimed peasant hero in disguise.

I did say I would protect her. But I never crossed my heart.

She was so gorgeous then, so young, so submissive, so elegant, so refined.

I spotted her first in the chapel. Her angelic existence was the sole reason I never evaded one single Sunday prayer during my stay in my summer boarding school. She hardly noticed me, indeed. A flea I was; must look nothing more extraordinary than a servant boy in her household. She was everything I couldn't be, or rather, I would die aspiring to be. I had, however, always watched her from afar. I practically stalked her like a sordid pervert. I spied on her from my dormitory. I realized my place, so I would usually keep my distance. A few times she returned my gaze with a curious smile. She had no idea how much ecstasy it plunged me in. She made a teenage boy's life gleam with hope and prospect.

I couldn't take my eyes off her. I couldn't simply let her elude my grasp.

It wasn't a fluke that I rescued her from those old school thugs. I swore to heaven I risked being squashed like a fly and slugged to death just to convince her that my love for her was true. Surely, it was.

Since the day I saved her chastity, my dear damsel, she named me her hero. Our love ensued. I never saw it coming so abruptly. We fell head over heels for each other. And then, there came the greatest trouble, our relationships forbidden and disrupted for the sake of her family's prestige. Like Romeo and Juliet, our love became a tremendously tragic tale. Her father kept her away from me. I sought her days and nights, crossed all the boundaries and even threatened to take my life. To break through all the obstacles of our segregation, she abandoned her reputation and eloped with me. Her identity from then on was concealed, forsaken and tarnished. She never blamed me though, for having extorted her from her precious family, for the painful forfeiture of her wealth and future just to marry an unpromising, arrogant school boy from way below her social stratum. I could never compensate for her loss. Never.

Years of forbearance must have exhausted her. This, I could tell from her forlorn expression and her grudge-filled eyes. She was still glancing at me, with torrents of tears rolling down her cheeks.

I wanted to apologize, but what for?

For a sin I didn't even commit?

"Apologize. Now." She commanded, clutching my poor wrinkled shirt as if it was my heart.

"For God's sake, don't start it now, Giselle." I grunted, deciding not to gaze into her eyes anymore. I was furious but I was trying my best to stifle my emotion. I couldn't believe what sort of bunk she was tossing at me. I knew she was stressed, strained probably. Believe me, a woman is never the same after marriage. I could never imagine her as the once so meek, considerate and amiable girl the same as the now so cynical, brusque and feisty woman. I understood it as her fatigue. I knew it was my fault all alone. My failures in business, my family's deplorable state of bankruptcy (caused by my twin brother Shayne), my lack of care and attention devoted in our household must have worn her out. The loss of our first and only child crushed her to the verge of suicide. The depression was severe after her miscarriage and never had we dared make another attempt. She couldn't bear with it. She couldn't even manage any work afterwards and a prolonged sedentary life bred a new virus. Paranoia.

"I demand an explanation, Spencer." She persisted, pointing resentfully to the lipstick smudge on the collar of my shirt.

_Geez, damn Lars, I lent him a shirt a while ago just so he could dress more decently in a prom and look what he got me into! _

I wondered if the lipstick stain was left by his recent girlfriend Rosa or that young secretary, Mabel.

"I told you Lars borrowed the shirt from me last week!" I basically snarled at her, though knowing well I shouldn't. Anger would only induce more problems between us.

"So? It doesn't justify the case." My wife pinpointed. "Petunia told me you were dating a girl yesterday."

"Please! Mabel is Lars' new part-time assistant!" I cried, fanatic already. "We were in some sort of business discussion yesterday! Lars can prove it!"

"Then, why was she clinging so close to you? Holding your hands and such. Even if she's school girl, care to explain why she kept calling you yesterday?"

"Gosh, we only shook hands once. It's courtesy, Giselle! And it lasted for like mini seconds and of course she rang me because I had forgotten the document in the café!"

"Why…why are you lying to me? Petunia said-"

"Petunia! Petunia says this; Petunia says that! It's always that damn chick! Do you listen to everything she says?" I lashed out, shaking her shoulders vigorously. "I'm your damn husband, good heavens. Are you that incapable of trusting me? When have I ever lied to you? I never cheated on you! I told you. Everything is your delusion. Take your pills, Giselle!"

"She…Do you find her more appealing and attractive than me?" Giselle sobbed. "Is she…any good at flattering you? She's…She's more alluring than me, right? Right?"

"Giselle! Stop it!" I screeched. "You're driving me bananas! I'm saying this one last time. I NEVER SLEEP WITH ANYONE ELSE! Definitely not Mabel in a billion of years!"

"I was waiting…" She babbled. "Last night, with dinner and everything all set, waiting for you to come home. You forgot what day it was. It was our anniversary. Our anniversary, darling… And you returned only after curfew. Your entire body reeked of alcohol and perfume. You could have been more honest with me. I wouldn't have roared at you like a shrew. Just tell me you loathe me and that you're tired of me and that I'm not attractive anymore. I'll flee. I will…I'll leave you alone with your new partner and-"

"Enough…"

"And I wouldn't even blame you-"

"Enough! I SAID ENOUGH!" I barked. "You just…You just wouldn't believe whatever I say, would you? Very well then, do as you please. I don't care anymore. Go slander me in front of your friends. Tell everyone in the neighborhood how I cheated on you and banged some whores behind your back. Go on, do whatever you wish to wreck me. Take your vengeance. I don't fucking give a damn anymore, you women are such nuisance!"

I watched her stiffen on the spot, her gestures and scowls frozen for what seemed like an eternity. Her eyes were imbued with perplexity, melancholy and shock for the most. For the first time in my life, I literally blustered at my wife. I never let my bomb explode before. She must have taken it as a hint of my despise, a symbol of losing my affection. She collapsed to the floor wailing in grievance. I sighed in frustration and trotted upstairs, locking myself in the room. I heard the front door open and slam shut minutes later, reckoning she must have bolt out of the house in haste and in rage.

It was hours later that I received the devastating news.

I had dozed off on our bed, unaware of the avoidable events taking place outside our home. I was indulging in a series of poisonous dreams looking so sweet they made me drool in bliss. I wished there was a second chance of everything. I wondered what would happen if I never took her away from her family. She would be still dwelling in that luxurious mansion, living a life of an affluent milady or being some gracious man's wife. She would marry the kid from that renowned corporation, someone I remembered as Cody Rabbits. There would be no such things as debts and poverty. The words of anguish and suffrage would never exist in her tale. She would be a healthy, blessed woman, a committed and regimented mother of many kids. She would have everything she asked for, with simple orders and requests. I would still be watching her from afar, being her secret admirer and handy hero. It was enough though; more sufficient than granting her a life full of distress and grief.

I felt so penitent. I wished I could give her more in this life. She deserved a far better man than Spencer Squirrels, the legendary cumbersome journalist who blundered in every miserable task. Even the manuscript of my last novel was turned down by every editor._ Crappy luck._

The phone kept chiming. I picked up the call. An unfamiliar voice emanated from the other side of the line. I listened in trepidation as the police officer informed me something I would rather believe it was purely a misunderstanding.

_She's dead._

They said.

Crossed the road in hurry when the light was green.

Got crashed by a truck speeding by.

Got rolled over and dragged for 5 meters.

Perished on the scene.

_What?_

_No…_

_This is absurd._

_What a prank!_

I couldn't keep myself from trembling in trauma, my eyes blinded instantly by rivers of tears. However many times I cried, I wept, I mourned, I lamented, they never changed the words.

_She is dead._

I crawled over to her cold body, took it into my arms, embraced it like a child would do to his broken toy, in remorse, in despair, in terror.

I thought I could squeeze some response out of her.

She didn't move an inch.

Her blood drenched my hands, oozing in between my fingers and dribbling down to the ground. Her eyes were clenched shut, her lips curved in an agonizing frown.

I cried. I squealed. I shuddered.

I shook her. I called out her name. I pried open her eyes. They closed again though.

I kissed her. I grabbed her. I touched her.

_God damn it, stop whimpering, you ass._

I was expecting her to yell at me.

But she never did again.

Never.

How had it ended like this.  
><em>Tell me, Giselle, what have I done to make you do this to me?<em>

_Please, I swear to God I wouldn't even yell at you for the second time!_

If only…

If only I had a second chance…

To tell you I still love you.

* * *

><p>It was 11th August, 2015. The digital clock on the wall ticked soundlessly as it blinked to 14:00.<p>

Time ceased, the moment our gazes interlocked with one another, our fates entwined.

It was scorching hot. The flame was just like her rage. Her eyes were shooting daggers but she could never fathom why I was so elated.

I blinked in grateful tears. She was about to raise her fist, to smack the vanity out of me. I would have allowed her to do so. I wrapped my arms around her and sealed our lips together. She was utterly bewildered, petrified, thunderstruck. Yeah, of course, she was. She didn't even foresee my surrender, right in the middle of our squabble. God must have heeded my prayer, to have let me return to this day where I was to amend my faults and redeem myself.

"S-Spencer!" She shivered and shoved me away, blushing. "What are you doing?"

"I'm so glad, Giselle…It's all just a dream!" I shed mirthful tears as I embraced my wife once more, astonishing her yet again.

"W-What? Why? I was asking you! What's the meaning of this stain on your shirt? Your affair with Mabel! Don't you think I know nothing of it! You-"

"Oh Giselle, I love you. You're the only one I love." I declared, shushing her with another passionate kiss. She gasped but didn't retaliate. I felt her heat ebb away, alongside her ferocity. She kissed me back, bashfully nibbling my lips. _Oh how I miss that feeling!_

No such fiery passion had flared between us in so many years, not since the days we got married and our murky, unfortunate life independent from our parents began. We made love like there was no tomorrow. It had been a while since we last relished in so much pleasure. We moaned for hours. It was the most memorable sex we had. She had never let me fondle her since her miscarriage and since her ridiculous belief that she could no longer satiate my desires with her aging body and decaying beauty. For me, she would always be the most beautiful girl in the world.

Our lust must have pulled us back somehow from the brink of solitude and ameliorated our rotten relationships.

We collapsed in heaps of sweat later, panting in numbness. I held her firmly in my arms, afraid that she would drift away again. She nestled her head on my chest tranquilly, purring like a snoozing kitten.

I smiled peacefully and planted a soft kiss on her head, closing my eyes at once.

The phone's chiming reverberated around our measly room. The air was soaked in our sweats, vaguely diluted by her unique aroma. My eyes fluttered open as the ringing stopped. Her petite body sat motionless on the edge of the bed, her back facing me. In hazy consciousness, I watched her quake. I heard her snivel. "Giselle!"

"She…" She blubbered, turning to glower at me. "That Mabel…Does she swing her ass and moan better than me? What trick did that use to seduce you?"

_Damn it…and I thought everything was going well._

"Say something!"

"Stop it, Giselle! I told you I have nothing to do with that woman. Quit making a fuss!" I howled. "Now give me back the damn phone!"

She tossed my phone violently on the floor and trample on it, cursing at the top of her lungs.

In a flash, she grabbed her undergarments, hauled them on and darted out of our room.

Only then did I start regretting my option.

"What…wait, Giselle! Wait! I'm sorry!" I hollered, sprinting after her. She rushed out of our house and scuttled onto the pavement. I had only enough time to pull on my pants and I chased her, streets after streets, begging her to stop and listen.

She whined louder than any newborn.

Everyone was gawking at us in awe.

"Giselle! Please, listen!" I gripped her wrist. Yes! I caught her and she whirled around, her face drowned in endless tears. I was about to cuddle her when she…she slipped out of my grasp again. She skittered onto the road, at the exact time as the light flickered green. A honking pierced the ears of many. I watched her trip, descend and collapse to the ground, her eyes bulging in panic. She screamed and cried out my name one last time. Before I could yank her back onto the pavement, the gigantic monster swished by and took her voice, her body, her soul…her everything.

"No…NO!" I shrieked until my throat bled. The truck braked to a stop only after rolling her over once or twice…or

_I don't know!_

Her fractured arm glided limply from underneath the wheel, her eyes fixated on mine. She stared at me, full of guilt and sorrow.

"No…hang in there, Giselle…Don't…"

_Don't leave me, my love_.

She smiled for once and shut her eyes, her breathing steadying and gradually fading away.

"Sorry…"

Was the last word I heard from her.

No…it couldn't be.

She…left me.

Again.

* * *

><p>Back to11th August, 2015, a mini-second to two.<p>

Time ceased once more, as we gazed into each other's orbs.

Her forthcoming rage echoed with the blistering atmosphere. The weather remained intolerably hot, the surrounding filled with stinky sweat particles. Our skirmish was going astray. She was gritting her teeth indignantly, louring at me.

I could only trace my glance over her striking face. It was only a moment of confrontation but it felt like a thousand years had passed.

_How long have been in love with you, my dear Giselle?_

_How many more times do I have to come back to rescue you?_

_How much more time do I have left till our conflict accelerated to an irreversible end?_

"Explain yourself, Spencer!" She bellowed, waving my blemished shirt in the air, like a manic. "Who is this MABEL? WHO IS SHE TO YOU?"

"Please, don't say anything." I puckered my lips and embraced her. She wiggled out of my way with disdain, cussing again.

I apologized. I pleaded. I started sobbing, when the image of her battered corpse flashed across my mind.

"I love you." I whispered, affirmative enough.

She was paralyzed, flabbergasted, incredulous.

_I'm telling you the truth._

She flung her arms at me. She leaned against me. We kissed our way to our chamber. We made love. Over and over again.

"Forgive me, Giselle." I crooned as we collapsed on our muddled bed, tainted with our love juice and sweats.  
>She wheezed, wearily, nodding off. A reassuring smile scrawled over her face.<p>

I switched off my phone and chucked it away, ensuring that no ringing would disturb our peaceful reconciliation again.

My eyes snapped open in horror. My ears pricked as the telephone came chiming. She was woken by the interruption, trudging towards the door.

"NO!" I yelped, hauling her backwards and secured her body with my arms.

_In no way am I going to let you answer the phone._

"Spencer…the phone!" She frowned apprehensively at me. I shook my head deliriously, whimpering like a condemned soul. She turned around, caressed me, gently took me into her bosom and stroked my disheveled hair. I could hear her heart pound.

It went thump thump thump…

_Beating as real as concrete._

I was relieved.

"Oh Spencer, I want to…I want to give it another shot." She requested sheepishly, bending down to taste my lips.

"I want to conceive a child…" She said. "I have always wanted to create one with you…Oh, darling, imagine how wonderful it would be to have a family full of kids, full of laughter, full of energy…I'm sorry...I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." I reminded.

It never was.

Our firstborn would have survived if she wasn't ravished.

If I had been more protective and cautious, Shayne wouldn't have sneak his way into our marriage and laid his hands on her.

"We will start again, Giselle." I assured her with a faint smile. "I guarantee you, nothing will go wrong this time."

"I'm scared, Spencer." She confessed. "That it would happen again…that we would lose our child the second time."

_More like I'm scared to lose you the second time, my love._

I convinced her such worry was indisputably useless, for what was to come would find its way to come. Whatever we did, the destined was unavoidable. It was bound to happen.

_Wait… does that mean…_

"Hold me, Spencer. Don't leave me."

The telephone kept ringing, the sheer noise resounding around our house.

We ignored the continuous disruption and indulged once more in our affectionate sex.

It rolled on and on. Nothing could sufficiently satisfy our craving for one another. Our bodies clashed with luscious sounds, quelling all source of noise from the outside world. Our minds mingled as one, our souls unified.

I laid her gingerly on bed, completely spent yet contented. A last groan leaked out of her mouth as she stared intimately and beguilingly at me. I grinned and kissed her one last time.

My body…was set ablaze. It was burning in fire.

I coughed, drops of sweats pelting down my forehead. She examined me nervously. When she brushed her hand across my head, she froze, disconcerted and unhinged.

"Oh my…you're…you're running a fever, dear!" She informed, fidgeting.

"Giselle…" I barely managed to mumble her name under my ragged breathes.

"Hold on a second." She dashed out of the room and returned promptly with a wet towel.

"A heat stroke it must be…" She concluded and stood up.

"Wait…no…what are you doing?" I widened my eyes and stuttered, my sight getting blurred.

"Stay in bed." She pushed me down and exhorted me not to move. Swiftly, she dragged the clothes on and snatched her bag.

"No…Giselle…Don't leave me!" I cried.

"Don't worry. I'll be right back from the pharmacist's." She said. "You need medicine."

"Giselle!"

She hurried out of the room, despite my pleas.

I watched her vanish from my sight, from my life…

I dropped back giddily on the mattress, cursing at my inability to prevent her from leaving the house.

My consciousness was flowing away. I propped myself up. I tried to reach the door but my head swirled in vertigo, in extreme heat.

"Giselle!"

It wasn't the phone this time. My heart almost popped out from fright. I felt less drowsy, thank goodness, my strength retrieved. I scrambled to the door. Still, my head was burning. I fisted open the door and gulped. The police officer scanned me from head to toe, rendered dumbstruck.

I shook my head immediately, my eyes brimming with tears.

"Are you, um…Mr. Spencer Squirrels?" The voice was tremulous.

I stumbled backwards and tripped.

"You are Giselle Chipmunks' husband, right?"

_How…am I supposed to say no?_

_Oh…my beloved Giselle!_

Again.

Just how on earth could I stop that freaking truck from crashing you!

* * *

><p>I was back to 11th August, 2015. Again.<p>

It was the same torrid day, in the same place, at the same time.

Time ceased as we exchanged our gazes.

She was fuming mad and vociferating. Her interrogation about my affair with Mabel dragged on. My fear remained. I was snapped out of trance by her forcible blow. She lost it. Her temper.

_Better than losing her life._

"Giselle, listen, you're going to die." I blurted out the truth like any presumptuous kids would on careless occasions. She gasped, not out of dread but soaring rage.

"What?" She screamed.

"Listen! You're going to die, precisely four hours fifty minutes later!" I urged, grabbing both of her wrists. "We don't have much time now. Come with me!"

"What…What're you doing, you…" She started screaming and struggling. I tightened my grip on her and hauled her upstairs, aiming right towards our room.

"Get your hands off me, you savage! You cheated on me! You slept with Mabel!" She squeaked malevolently. "You will pay for this, Spencer Squirrels! If you don't love me anymore, fire a divorce with me! Don't torment me like this! Don't puncture my heart as if it's your plaything! I'm not subjugated to your domestic abuse! YOU- Ah!"

I shoved her into our room and locked the door.

_Now what?_

"What are you...doing?" Her eyes glimmered in the dim. "Showing your true self now, aren't you? Just say you're tired of me!"

"I'm never TIRED of you!" I barked, practically losing my composure. "I love you, Giselle! Whatever happens, you're the only one for me. Now won't you be quiet and stay here until it ends!"

"Screw you!" She squealed and smacked me. She raced to the door just as I blocked her and tossed her back onto our bed.

"Let me out of here!" She demanded and attempted to reach the knob. Again and again, I kept her away from the door. Eventually, I pinned her down on the ground and tied her wrists to the bed's legs. She went ballistic and started flailing her legs, squirming and screeching in utter madness.

I wept and let the tears be the evidence of my pain.

"I'm sorry. You'll just have to endure it for a few more hours. When it's over, I'll release you." I kissed her. She bit my lips hostilely and promised revenge.

"I gave up everything to be with you…" She whined. "And you treat me…you treat me like this! Curse you, Spencer, curse you."

_Why, God, why do I have to go through all this torture?_

_I love her. And that's the only truth._

_Truer than the earth ever is. Truer than the sky._

_Is our love destined to wither and putrefy?_

I booted open the door in panic, just in time to see her untie herself and climb to the window frame. She slid open the window and crossed the railing.

"No…No no no!" I cried.

With one artful smile, she leaped into the air and plummeted to the ground.

"Giselle!" I shouted and scampered downstairs. She pulled her tattered body up and hobbled out of our gate.

"NO! STOP RIGHT THERE!"

I believed the entire neighbourhood was aware of our commotion. She wobbled down the street, screaming and crying for help, telling everyone I had flipped out and become a lunatic trying to cage and imprison her. I chased after her, through the curious crowds and the merciless platoon.

Round the corner, she turned and strayed away from the pavement.

No…NO!

The truck braked to a stop, with a series of thunderous screeches.

I watched the crimson liquid smear her face and sully the soil.

I fell on my knees.

And embraced her corpse once more.

* * *

><p>It was 11th August, 2015, a day I would never forget.<p>

No matter how many times I returned to this day, she couldn't be saved.

Time ceased, the moment our gazes interlocked with one another, our fates entwined.

Everything ceased at once. They never flew again.

On this muggy day, we argued like any ordinary couples would. She demanded an elaborative and rational explanation about my alleged affair with my boss' secretary, Mabel.

She was holding my spoiled shirt, screaming nonstop.

I submitted myself to her smoldering wrath. I apologized. I asserted my love for her. She was dubious at first but succumbed to my concession later.

Our misunderstanding was discarded.

We made love fervently, groaning and twisting our bodies like untamed animals.

She screamed my name as zealously as I screamed hers.

We concocted our paradise, re-established our bonds.

We fabricated an invisible child which would never arrive to this world.

We vowed to heavens and earth, that we would love forever and more.

She fell into her peaceful slumber, purring my name over and over again.

It was an enticing sight.

_Nothing has changed._

_Her youth stays with her._

_Our marriage remains._

_Our souls cross the universes for eternity._

_Our love has reached its infinity._

_We are lovers for ten years, and a thousand more._

_A day has turned into a year, a decade, a century._

_I have come back for more times than I could remember._

_I will always save you from that truck, over and over again._

In my next life, I would become a better man.

I would become your true hero, Giselle.

I would definitely protect you from every danger.

I crept out of our room and returned with our salvation.

I embraced her.

I planted one last smooch on her lips.

I wrapped my fingers around the pistol.

Without further ado, I pulled the trigger.

**BANG!**

The sound came better than any others.

_At least, better than the braking noise of the deadly truck._

I placed her nude skeleton silently on our bed.

I finished my letter for a lifelong friend of mine, the only living soul who would learn the true story of mine.

I sealed the envelop, packed it with the cursed idol in a box.

I lumbered back to our bed and lay beside my lover.

I pulled her close to me and wiped out my last drop of tear.

So very cautiously, I aimed the muzzle at my head.

Muttering her name, I bid my farewell to this world.

* * *

><p><span><strong>Letter II: Delivered to Fillip Bears after Spencer Squirrel's death on 11<strong>**th**** August, 2015**

Dear Fillip,

I know I have just sent you a letter a few days ago. This is probably the last one you will be receiving from me though.

If you are reading this, I am afraid my business in this world has long come to an end. Forgive me, my friend, for leaving so abruptly and recklessly. For a guy like me who always acts on impulses, I deserve your contempt. Mock me. Taunt me. Castigate me as you wish. But please, do not judge me the way others do. They would tell you my sin on 11th August, 2015. They would tell you that your friend, Spencer Squirrels, is now a notorious homicidal who has murdered his wife before committing suicide. But what they see isn't what the truth embraces. Yes, we have a conflict and my motive is never what they claim. I do not kill her out of rage. You know well I love her too deeply. Whatever she does will never bestow adequate reasons for me to end her life. Then, you would be asking me, _why have you done it then?_

A lot have happened before I decide to kill her. I am entrusting you with my uncanny yarn, which I presume nobody in this world will ever believe. I doubt if you would believe my tale, too. You are, nonetheless, the only companion I can depend on. You know I am too much of a conceited bastard to even lie about anything in my life. Read the journal entries I have attached here. Read them thoroughly. You probably wouldn't think such possibility even exists. When they say this town is cursed and all the unthinkable and unimaginable could happen, they are, in fact, correct. I regard it as divine punishment, contorted fates.

In the first arc, Giselle died in a car accident after our first quarrel. I did nothing to prevent her horrendous death. On 11th August evening, I was dismissed from the hospital where her corpse was temporarily stored. I returned home like a demented soul. I did mention to you in the previous letter about a primeval idol sculpture I purchased from a bargaining sale, right? Jesus, that thing isn't a simple doll! As I'm saying this bluntly, you might not believe a single word from me, that idol, but that idol…is cursed! It can turn back time! (I am sending you the doll in this package. You are the only person left on earth who knows of my true story. I want you to assist me, mate, to investigate about this idol when you graduate from your military training. You will believe it's a magical object when you make a wish to it. But be careful, Fillip, every wish comes with a consequence, like mine.)

My journal is the only handwritten evidence of my implausible experience and I am confiding in you, my pal. In my second, my third, my forth, my fifth and a hundred more arcs, I travelled back to 11th August afternoon repeatedly, attempting to amend our fates. But I failed miserably. I couldn't save Giselle. Oh my poor Giselle!

And then, I came to realize the truth. The truth is, our death is inevitable. Mine and Giselle's. How so?

I want you to recall something we discussed briefly at college. Remember once we had a vivid debate on the theories of time? Time, as you believe, always exists. Everything is tensed with relevance to temporal perspectives. Time is a continuum of past, present and future. Past is the happened. Present is the current. Future is the unpredicted. You claimed that future can be constructed virtually by our whims, wishes and prophecies. You have such belief in altering the actual future and replacing it with the virtual one. You also said that time travel is possible and past can be changed in opportunistic circumstances. I ridiculed you then. I retorted you harshly that past and future never truly exist. There is no such thing as time. Reality is timeless. Time is only an abstract concept we humans use language to justify the temporal gradient. In actuality, time is never a concrete existence. I opted for presentism in our debate. I told you that every single event in this universe is situated in its present moment, regardless of dimensions and choices. Everything is anchored right from the beginning. Past are only facts in our blurred memory. We might try to change our virtual future but our actual one breeds the same consequence. In retrospect, I suppose both of us were right at some point, wrong at others. Perhaps time does exist, like you said. When I found that I could return to 11th August however many times I wanted, I was appalled. I couldn't believe I would exploit the power of that cursed idol to rotate the earth several times.

People would tell you that I am insane to make up the whole time-travelling ordeal. No, I am not making anything up. I assure you; I am recapping everything from my memory. The moment I anticipated Giselle's death was the moment I began to be trapped in this infinite loop of recurring events. At first, I was inclined to believe that I was trying to reverse time. But no, I was not. I was actually trying to reverse our fates. Giselle is doomed on 11th August, 2015, whether or not I stay on this day. Our marriage is wrecked. Nothing can change that fact. Even if I return repeatedly to 2 o'clock in that particular afternoon, right before our conflict ensues, nothing will change the fact that she dies. This proves that our past, present and future are permanently rooted. They can't be changed. You can almost hear my screams, I know. How ghastly it is to be chosen to experience all these outrageous things?

Do you believe me now?

Giselle is destined to die in the first place. It is engraved in this universe at a specific present moment. It is bound to happen.

Even if I demolish that truck, she will drown somehow, or fall off the roof, or slip down the stairs...

**Her death is inevitable.**

There are, however, alternative means to reach the destination.

I only alter the route she reaches her death and accompany her.

I can't leave her in solitude, can I? We have pledged to be together forever and ever.

**By that saying, this makes my death inevitable too.**

Certainly, I am still an unpardonable murderer.

It soothes me though to remember that I am the one who induces her death.

I love her, always.

I want the memory of our last moments bloom like summer flowers.

Across ages, heavens and hells, I love her, completely and uncontrollably.

Our love never ends. It stretches on to infinity. You get it now?

Only infinity breaks through all boundaries of time and space.

I don't give a damn about any cursed fates, cursed idols, cursed time-travelling now. The present moment is eternal, both for Giselle and for me.

Don't mourn over our death, mate. Do not grieve. If you believe my story, always remember, love is timeless as reality is.

Someday, we will meet again, in our reincarnated forms. We might even find a world where life meets death, sky meets earth and the past meets the present. I do believe such an alternate world exists. There, immortality reigns. Everything is truly unending. The dead can be resurrected.

I will meet Giselle again. We will still be together after death. Our souls have been intertwined from the time I settled my eyes for her in that Sunday chapel ten years ago. The past is ever so nostalgic, the present so realistic, the future so malleable.

By the way, it's now 6:25 p.m. on 11th August, 2015, exactly half an hour before I end Giselle's life with my own hands. We have just made love vigorously. No regrets now. Her sleeping face has never changed over these years. She's still so adorable, so captivating. My sweet angel she will always be.

It's my lifetime pleasure to have you as my friend, Fillip. I have got to go now, to load the gun before she wakes.

All the blessings for you. I hope you return as an honorable solider, a gallant fighter of our nation.

Love as Always,

Your dearest friend, Spencer

11.8.15

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Well...I've always imagined Splendid married to Giggles. I totally ship this pairing, though I am not in objection of Cuddles x Giggles either x3 I don't know if the ending is considered tragic or not, but well they have to die if they want to get reincarnated in Happy Tree Town (sounds reasonable, right?) The next chapter will be about Flippy x Flaky. Tell me how the story is :) Reviews always appreciated.


	2. Angel in the Ruins: Fillip & Fae

**A/N: **Greetings, guys! Have come back for an update. A few points to note though.

- There are some amendments made to chapter 1, especially the place where Lammy is replaced by Mole (This is a minor change, actually, but will affect the later chapters though).

- Chapter 2 here general revolves around the incarnated forms of Flippy and Flaky, the most popular pairing there is.

- The corresponding names of the characters in this story are as follows.

Fillip- Flippy  
>Fae- Flaky<br>Michael/Mouse- Mouse KaBoom  
>Steven- Sneaky<br>Tarr General- Tiger General (possibly)  
>Spencer- Splendid (already mentioned in the previous chapter)<br>Giselle- Giggles

And please! If you're reading this, do leave a review or two! Would be nice to know how the story goes. After all, it's my first time to embrace such a different genre and approach of writing! I need your comments and critiques! :D

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2: Angel in the Ruins<strong>

**From the perspective of Fillip Bears **

**~xXx~**

**_Friday, 8_****_th_****_ July, 2016_**

I became a gallant soldier because my father was one.

They tell you it's a lifetime honor to defend your own nation, to condemn the rivals and to protect your loved ones.

Your identity is rooted in your flag, your destiny in the path you opt for.

Victory is where pride is bestowed, the essential sense of accomplishment and belonging.

The only virtue is to abide by the love for your country. Sacrifice is courage. Selflessness is deed.

Yet, is it true that war is the sole route to peace?

What is humanity? What is civilization? What is justice? What is life?

What is honor? What is privilege? What is fortune?

What is…love?

* * *

><p><span><strong><em>Monday, 11<em>****_th_****_ July, 2016_**

This summer is an everlasting one.

I rejoiced in the scattering petals of eternal crimson, my gaze embraced by the fancy flowers that would blossom forever in my melancholy dream.

_Scarlet petals._

_Ruby tears._

_A river drenched in voluminous blood._

I aspire to be a valiant soul, a noble warrior, a renowned savior. But no matter how much blood I extract from those deplorable souls, I never prevail.

_There is no such thing as honor._

_In a world of bestiality, to defend your loved ones is to extort the lives of others._

_There is no such thing as humanity._

_In a world of brutality, to survive is to be the strong ones and to be strong is to press against the weaker._

_Civilization? It's just humans' infinite desires for domination and power._

Reality is ever so hideous. A man's sin can be disguised as any sort of heroic deed.

As long as you fight for your country, they say, you are a **_hero_**.

"You're right, Spencer." I muttered, to no one in particular. The afternoon siesta was reassuring. The view in this secluded area was spectacular. Perhaps the merciful God would heed my prayer. The boundless sky was my sole listener. "No man is meant to reign. Democracy is just a means to legitimate tyranny. We're all slaves of this corrupted society."

The flowers heard me. They swayed and pacified me with their aroma.

I forgot how long I had been lying in the woods.

Time does cease when one indulges wholly in contemplation, and when subtle realization starts to subsume you.  
>I regret in every way having become a soldier. A wise man once told me<p>

**_"_****_Killing does not necessarily constitute your bravery. It only reflects savageness. A true hero does not take a single innocent soul."_**

And he was right.

"Why…did you leave this world without me?" I mumbled. "Are you really with Giselle now? Is death truly your…remedy? Where's our Utopia?"

That guy has always been so impetuous, so unpredictable, so slovenly… His mind is incomprehensible, neither is his action. But I still couldn't believe he would choose to end his life so simply without even bidding me a proper farewell. His marriage was going downhill, but why was he obligated to murder his wife? Up until now, I can't fathom why. Not his intentions that have been puzzling me, but the meaning of love.

_I am in no position to judge because I have never loved someone as madly as he has._

"Geez, just when we thought you're lost, dude."

I awoke to my comrades' smirks. They hovered above me, hands on their hips, with scornful smiles plastered all over their faces.

"Daydreaming again, huh?" Michael giggled. I propped myself up from the grass reluctantly and stretched.

"Is that another lewd dream?" Steven scoffed. I shot him a menacing stare and growled. "Meditation. Haven't you heard of it before?"

"Yea, like spacing out in the middle of woods during wartime. What a fabulous time to ruminate about theories of life, death and the philosophy of time and all." Steven rolled his eyes.

"I don't see how wrong it is." I shrugged and slung my pack over my shoulder. "If we don't think about life now, are we supposed to ponder it after death?"

"Always the pensive one, Fillip." Michael cackled.

"I do believe in life after death though." Steven opined. "I have a haunch that I'll be reincarnated as a billionaire in my next life."

"Idiocy is contagious, Steve." Michael warned. "We don't need your virus."

"That is absolutely an insult! Why? Haven't you guys thought of it before?" Steven retorted. "Like you never really wonder where people all go after they disappear on earth? Where do our souls meet again?"

"In hell." Michael chortled. "Definitely."

"Fillip, say something! Mouse is always ruining the mood." Steven nudged me, signaling for rescue. "Always rebutting whatever I say."

"Uh… yes…sometimes that idea does cross my mind…" I admitted.

"The idea of what?" They both glanced at me quizzically.

"Of immortality." I replied.

They gawked at me for a prolonged moment of silence before bursting into plain laughter. I knew what they were thinking. _The captain is going queer again._

"Gosh, that's hilarious!"

"The solemn look you make when you say it is priceless."

"What makes you think that it is ridiculous?" I interrogated. "I don't see the comedy in it. Everything is possible. Somewhere, I believe, in this universe, immortality does exist."

"I now declare that our almighty captain is incurable." Michael proclaimed, feigning a professional voice. "No medicine in this world can treat his tremendous fantasy. No, not anymore."

"Yea, immortality, time travel, divine interventions…there are so many far-fetched things you believe in, mate. I'm impressed." Steven sneered.

"Time travel is true!" I asserted, clenching my fists firmly. "It's real…"

My two childhood companions ceased laughing and sighed simultaneously. "Fillip, we told you, that Spencer guy is a psycho. He killed his wife and made up the whole delusional time-travelling experience. It's just his excuse to reason his crime." Michael pinpointed critically.

I wouldn't approve of his statement. No, never.

I believe in Spencer.

He has spent his last moments of life to unravel everything to me. He confides in me. I must trust him regardless of how outlandish his confession is.

"It's been a year, dude. And you're always drifting off to your own realms." Steven sighed. "We're deeply concerned, Fillip. You should just get over his death. We all know he's your best friend, your soul mate, but we are also your childhood friends! And we are currently in a war. A moment of falter is lethal. We can't cover you all the time. You've got to stay vigilant."

"Yea…right." I averted my gaze and murmured, not wishing to engage in any further conversation. No one could understand me anyway. They would only deem what was laid before their eyes.  
>Spencer didn't just kill Giselle and himself because he was a lunatic as they believed he was.<p>

He was compelled to do it!

He was cursed by that ancient artifact!

I retreated to my tent glumly and tidied our arms.

A year has passed but never have I forgotten my miserable friend's bereavement. When I returned from my military training, I searched everywhere for hard evidence of his adventure recorded in his journal, but all in vain. I found the cursed doll but was able to prove anything. I was beginning to lose hope and doubt the validity of his eerie tale. In spring, I was recruited back to the army. A war has sparked between our region and the neighboring one. We have been forced to fight. I abandoned my home once more. If it hasn't been for the sake of my two cousins, the only relatives I have left in this world, I wouldn't even have participated in this battle.

I would have…followed Spencer to his death.

* * *

><p><span><strong><em>Tuesday, 12<em>****_th_****_ July, 2016_**

The sun was vertical; the day was blistering and unbearably strenuous.

An abrupt attack occurred in the southern terrain. We were rendered in ambush. Team 4 and Team 7 called for rescue. We supplied them at noon, blocking and delaying several advances of the Tarr Army. We split up midway through our mission. I got separated from Steven and Michael.

The notion of death never terrorized as much as it did today. I remembered myself sprinting in the forest in a desperate attempt to evade my enemies who indisputably outnumbered me. I was able to get rid of them and spare myself some time to contact my comrades. As soon as they lost track of me, they scurried towards the other part of the outskirts. I was safe, temporarily.

I am a talented fugitive, they might have told you. Extremely elusive and a skilful runner. But that only implies how much of a coward I am. Death flashed across my mind once or twice. For a brief second, my mind went blank. I thought I was joining my deceased companion. The threat wasn't at all intimidating until I spotted her. I wouldn't have believed angels existed then, not before this white, eccentric being appeared before me. I would have been hiding behind the bushes all day like those tiny insects creeping in between crannies when being chased. Shrill noises, disturbing sounds they were I had never heard before. I found myself a perfect angle behind the thickets, perfectly camouflaged, to witness a girl of awful youth being tossed against a gnarled oak tree. Her face was obscured by the midday shadows. The two uniformed men assaulting her looked so familiar. How should I cope with a maiden struggling futilely against two soldiers from my own army? I recognized them as someone from Team 1. The angel must be a refugee from Turquoise, a southern village belonging to our rivalry region. Naïve was she, not realizing our men actually set our base in this segregated woods. I watched the most heart-wrenching whimpers pour out of her lips. Those sounds, I suppose, were the true whines of a fallen angel.

"If I were you, young lady, I would have stopped resisting long ago." The girl twitched, her complexions exceptionally calm. The suppressed fear and wrath was profound though. "Let your beauty not be wasted upon your death. We're gonna have some fun with you."

An expression of nonchalance was followed by a smile of distain. She lifted her face as her eyes twinkled under the luminous sun. As if she had already foreseen her predicament, she was more than ready to blurt out the last insult, to retain her dignity even in a kingdom of doom.

It was, perhaps, the moment I realized death was ever so intriguing. Her spreading of her arms to embrace the end of her life was so majestic. No soldier of my acquaintances could have been compared to that remarkable virtue. Never surrendering in front of the foe. Even if death was imminent, indispensable, an attitude bound by faith and bravery was so admirable.

_"__I will not be conquered."_ Was all I could read from her face. _"I would die rather than be disgraced in the name of my lineage."_

I picked up my weapon and loomed towards my two subordinates. They spun around with a crooked grin, welcoming me to partake in their heinous game.

"Captain, we've found a-"

Blood spattered like drops of rain. The crimson liquid matched her hair. It sprinkled down like petals of rotten roses. How I basked in that breathtaking scene! Her expression remained apathetic as she gazed down at my comrades' sliced corpses. Her eyes slowly traced back to my blood-stained face. A dubious frown gradually formed.

Now I got a better view of her appearance.

Young. Pure. Untainted soul. Hair dark as my rose. Eyes of claret. Lips of cherry. Skin white as her wings. Petite. Crudely dressed. A raw beauty. A maximum age of fifteen or so.

I hoped my analysis was correct. In fact, I haven't really been in touch with a girl for ages. She mesmerized me. I never would have believed in my act. I was more of an absconder than a murderer. But for this gorgeous, feeble angel, I decided to betray my own principle.

"You…okay?" I asked. Indeed, my presence must have frightened her. She tilted her head in confusion as if she was deciding whether to answer me or not. I sheathed my knives and rubbed my hands roughly on my pants, careful not to contaminate this innocent beauty. No, on second thought, I pulled back my hand and decided not to even touch her.

"Don't worry. I don't do any harm."

Well, that statement was hardly convincing. Meeting a soldier from the opposing tribe sure as hell scared the wits out of her. She was more composed than I expected.

"Are you from the village? Can you walk?"

She stayed mute and glowered at me. For a split moment, I thought she was finally going to respond somehow but what I received was more out of my anticipation. She flung her hand at me and plunged a knife into my flesh, as forcibly as her strength allowed her.

"I'll avenge my father. My clan. Savage like you should be sent back to hell." Her words came out as assertive and authoritative as could be. I widened my eyes and goggled at my gash. Ha…this angel is truly impulsive. If I had not let my guards down for a second, she wouldn't have even dip that blade into my waist. It hurt, but the pain was an addictive one. She gasped at her failed attempt of killing me. Wrapping her hand around the handle, she sought to pluck the knife out and stab me again. I grabbed her wrist lightly, just in case her fragile bone crumbled. Vaguely smiling, I cocked my brows, amazed yet again by her tenacity. She panicked, her hope frozen on the spot. Wiggling out of my grasp, she stumbled backwards and scooted away.

* * *

><p><span><strong><em>Wednesday, 13<em>****_th_****_ July, 2016_**

I awoke to the candlelight. Already, my comrades' taunting face came into my sight. I sighed and sat up, my back slumping against the inner wall of our tent.

"What?" I asked.  
>"You got attacked?" Steven exclaimed with a hint of disbelief.<p>

"Oh, that." I glimpsed my wound and shrugged.

"Seriously, you could doze off with that amount of blood still leaking out of your cut? That's incredible." Michael grinned, tossing me a bandage.

"Took us long enough to find you back. Didn't know you've actually returned to the camp" Steven said, leisurely taking out his cigarette. "Tackled a team of Tarr soldiers. On your way back here, did you see the corpses of Kelvin ad George from Team 1? Shocking. Never thought they would be defeated."

I nodded in echo, my guilt buried deep within me.

"Did the same one attack you?" Michael inquired anxiously.

"Possibly." I replied.

"That cut doesn't look so deep. Weird weapon your attacker has." Steven analyzed, his sensitiveness never leaving him. "In fact, could hardly believe a Tarr soldier with strength of a flea. Must be some inexperienced, untrained young fellow."

_It isn't a young fellow. It is a girl._

"Never underestimate your enemies though." Michael snickered. "Guess this person must have some guts to lay a finger on our mighty Captain."

"Your compliment is an overstatement." I laughed.

"Always."

"Take some rest, dude. We've got another mission tomorrow." Steven informed. "You…will be alright, huh?"

"Of course. This is just a trivial injury." I stated.

"Cool. Good work today anyway." Steven yawned. "I'm gonna take a nap. Mouse, you on the watch."

"Ugh, always me." Michael rolled his eyes in annoyance and trod out of the tent.

I took a sip of water and retreated to my own corner. Lolling down, I dreamed of that red-haired girl once more.

* * *

><p><span><strong><em>Sunday, 14<em>****_th_****_ August, 2016_**

When I was small, my father was my idol. I honored him as the greatest colonel. I respected him. I pledged to follow his route.

When he first disapproved of my joining the military, I was unable to grasp the reason why. I was devastated, utterly desolate. I thought I could never be someone as magnificent and worthy as him.

He taught me virtues. He taught me life and death. He aimed to prohibit my link to any sort of battle. I defied him. I disappointed him with my obstinacy. I became a soldier in hopes that one day he would appreciate my endeavor to make him proud of me.

But now…the spell of rebellion struck back. I was left to combat with the consequence of my mishap.

My father is dead. He is right about one thing though- I would regret my option.

"Becoming a soldier isn't at all what you think it is. You believe you can handle all the hardship, all the fear and inferiority, but Fillip, you can never surpass you conscience. I know it because you're my child. You are not made for being a soldier. It is not your capability that is in question. It is your consciousness. Your streak tells me you deserve a far less devilish life than slaughtering souls on a battlefield. Trust me and you won't fall like me."

In the end, I was able to understand the subtle meaning of war, of fighting, of killing…

However many lives I take would never make me braver.

It only accelerates my deterioration, my corruption, my downfall.

To live in triumph also means to bears the greatest sins.

I should have never trained myself into becoming a callous monster who takes more lives than granting one.

* * *

><p><span><strong><em>Tuesday, 16<em>****_th_****_ August, 2016_**

I watched the entire village immersed in bombs, debris dispersing across this land of blood. Cries…revolting and distressing cries they were, flowing out of those who cringed, who fled, who beseeched and who eventually fell into the hands of cruel reality.

_Men running in all directions, defending the garden of their home, shielding the women of their love. _

_Women holding on to their kids, grieving for their partners' death, waiting for their own execution. _

_Children lamenting at the destruction of their paradise, permanently scarred by the death of their parents, shrieking at the pending end of their painfully short life._

What am I to do on a land where war is judged as a flawed resolution to peace, and where murder is disguised as deed?

Where is conscience? Where does one's heart stand?

I shot a thousand men. I claimed a thousand lives. I condemned a thousand souls.

And yet, I did not feel honored at all.

I am just as unsightly as the truth is.

I am as despicable as the war itself. My presence is what sustains it. My participation is the cause. My cowardice is the curse.

Just as I was about to take down another house, I was paralyzed by the sight of her. She stood as bravely as any man, holding the flag of her nation, skittering through mountains of corpses in a plain white dress. The chaos never terrified her. She was determined to stay beside her home.

I watched a grenade hurled in her direction. My mind was hollow. The image of her blown body became my worst nightmare. At that moment, I could only abandon all I had. I only knew to race towards this girl on peril and wrap my arm around her waist. I lifted her off ground and trotted away from the explosive. Flabbergasted was she, desperate was I.

Just this one lady, I've got to save her no matter what.

I don't know why, but she gives me such a vast feeling; a feeling of vulnerability; a feeling of empathy; of grief…..

"P-Put me down…PUT ME DOWN, YOU BARBARIAN!" She wailed, flailing her arms aggressively. I ignored her shrieks and kept running. I found a shelter shortly and hid her there. She seemed thoroughly disgusted but had stopped struggling as much.

"Why…Why?" She stammered, her voice shaking. Those tears glittered more beautifully than any shooting stars. I didn't answer her. We stayed there for what seemed like an eternity. I stared at her. She stared back at me. In the rain of blood and rubbles, we looked at each other and wondered where we had met before our lives even began.

It was until night that the place finally quieted down after the massive invasion. The village was gone, the clan terminated. The survivors became permanent refugees. We won in this mission.

A storm tore the sky. What followed the massacre was an endless night of rain. I draped my jacket around her, seeing her shiver in cold. She glanced at me, her eyes shimmering in tears. Only then did I realize she wasn't trembling because of coldness but of fright. I didn't know how I mustered my courage to hug her. Her small body was nestled weakly against mine. She felt so scrawny, so frail. It just incited me to sympathize with her even more. I wanted to protect her, to assist her, to safeguard her life…

"What…What's your name, child?" I asked, though this being the first question sounded rather odd.

"F-Fae…Fae." She mumbled, her lids dropping in exhaustion.

"I'm Fillip." I said.

I guessed she didn't catch it.

* * *

><p><span><strong><em>Wednesday, 17<em>****_th_****_ August, 2016_**

"You've got to be kidding me." Steven howled, agitated.

"Really," Michael bawled. "Dude, are you…trying to kill us all? Don't drag us into this shit."

I ignored my comrades' croaking and placed Fae in one comfortable corner, covering her with a thin blanket.

"What were you thinking?" Steven gasped.

"Is she a villager?" Michael asked.

"From Turquoise, yes." I said.

"From Turquoise! Did you hear that?" Steven squealed, turning to Michael. "From a village we invaded! From our enemy Tarr! Woaaaah, Fillip, what are you doing?"

"Saving someone, obviously." I replied bluntly.

"Her? In our camp? Saving someone? Are you insane?" Michael cried.

"Probably." I shrugged.

"We can't keep her here! In fact, we're supposed to kill her!" Steven said. "The order is for us to wipe out the entire southern Tarr lineage. Every single dweller in Turquoise is to be exterminated!"

"You, are you planning on killing her?" I asked, glaring intently at my comrade. Steven gulped, glimpsed Fae quickly and gazed back at me. "I didn't say anything about killing her but we cannot, absolutely no, we cannot keep her here with us, Captain. You have not the slightest idea what you're doing. If we're discovered, we'll be in big trouble."

"I don't know why you're doing this." Michael said. "But you can't save her for long. Sooner or later, she'll be found out and executed."

"In that case, I'll do as much as I can." I declared. "Anyone of you thinking of stopping me, we're no comrades anymore."

"Huh? What?" Steven's mouth gaped open. Michael had just the same perplexed expression on his face.

My mind was all set.

_I will not let this girl die, whatever tactic I have to use._

* * *

><p><span><strong><em>Thursday, 18<em>****_th_****_ August, 2016_**

Our soldiers received an order to take a short break from the temporary success. Our next target would be directly towards the Tarr Army. The invasion denoted our claim of part of their territory. All the residents in Turquoise were executed in the massacre.

Fae woke up from her slumber. I treated her injuries and assured her that she was now in a safe location. We didn't speak much then, not until noon when she seemed to finally regain her full senses.

Again, she questioned my motive of saving her. I offered no concrete responses, for neither do I know why I would save her life twice.

I just felt that I was bound to do so.

Either that our souls were connected the first time we met or was I trying to find my last object of redemption.

"You…know you should've killed me, alongside my people…" She pointed out. "It's your duty, isn't it? You are…a captain?"

"I do not intend to hurt you in any way, miss." I asserted. "You may have yourself hidden here for a while. I'll see what I can do to-"

My speech was interrupted as she, fast as light, snatched a rifle some inches away and aimed the muzzle at herself. I scowled and gripped her wrists, knocking the weapon out of her hands.

"What the heck is going on?" Steven and Michael barged into the tent to investigate the commotion. Fae, sobbing, flinched from me and yelled. "Let me die, you monsters! Don't touch me! I would rather die with my people than to be assaulted and abused for your sick pleasure!"

I sighed and released her wrists.

"If life is so worthless for you now, I won't stop you. I didn't save you for any purpose." I explained. "I only did so out of my whim and because I wanted to. True your clan is dead. And if you take me words, your survival means more than a world to your tribe. I am not a man of that sort who feeds their desires on women from the enemy state."

She was speechless for a second. Her weeping abated a little as she shifted her gaze to the other two bystanders. "You…Your comrades…They…are going to do what they did to my friends to me…even if you wouldn't…"

"I think you have some misjudgment here, lady, whatever your name is." Steven tucked his hands into his pockets sternly. "I'm sorry for what some of our men did to your friends but our team doesn't comply with this kind of things. We only fight and take orders. We don't ravish our preys and most definitely wouldn't rape a girl of your age."

"You should feel grateful that Fillip saved you. In fact, you should treat it as a miracle." Michael said. "You would have blown into pieces back there when the grenade landed on you, kiddo."

"You…you killed my family and ruined my village…My everything…and you dare ask me to thank you for saving me? Buck off." Fae cussed.

"Geez, this girl has such a sweet temper, Captain!" Steven laughed. "A treasure you've found here."

"Oh well, maybe we did. But speaking in such tone to someone who poses potential threat to your life isn't so smart, girl." Michael grinned. "Problem with us? Either you kill yourself or try coming to charge at us. Run away and get raped by some of our men before having your head chopped off. Your choice, lady. Life is yours."

"If you wish for vengeance, Fae, survival is the first necessity." I said. "This is my advice. You can choose your own way though."

Fae glared at me but said no more.

* * *

><p><span><strong><em>Monday, 22<em>****_th_****_ August, 2016_**

The howling of the wind resonated with the whines of death. The unfavorable weather condition hindered our advance. Plan changed. The Tarr Army has been silent for a while, delusional success assumed.

I slumped against a tree, the blood diluted by the rain pelting down. I watched the carmine liquid oozed down to a pond of grubby mud, my sin reflected in bare sight.

The scene swarmed in my head, of my victims plummeting down from the summit, their blood spraying across the land of Curse. I could never forget those faces of agony, those eyes of fury. The last words were spilled with their moans. Their life faded in the witness of the sky.

A hand stroked my shoulder tenderly. Could sense her hesitation and trepidation. I lifted my face to see the angel blinking down at me, her eyes filled with so much…sorrow and pity.

"Do you…always weep after killing someone?" She asked, her voice quaking, a sign of uncertainty, of nervousness.

I smiled. And I thought my tears were veiled by the rain. _She is an intelligent girl_.

"You'll get soaked. Why don't you stay in the tent, Fae." I said, steering away from her question. She ignored my suggestion and flopped down next to me.

"I...want to stay here." She murmured. _A stubborn one._

"There is nothing worth staying here for." I argued, not wanting her to catch a cold. She seemed prone to disease. In fact, she is prone to any risks.

"Mr…er…Mr. Captain, I…um…I want to apologize for my previous rudeness. Apparently, I have misjudged you."

"Fillip Bears is my name." I said. "You're not in the place to apologize. I am still your enemy, the culprit of your forfeiture. I might even have been the one who murdered your family."

"Mr. Bears, I do not define enemy by identity." Fae said. "I define them by heart. You saved my life. I owe you mine. Though your intentions are still inconceivable, I will repay you for your immense mercy and kindness."

"Changing your attitudes so soon?" I smirked. "Did someone teach you not to be so gullible? Trusting your foe would sure bring dismay."

"If you are a bad person, Mr. Bears, I am positive that you wouldn't sob and repent every time you take someone's lives. Or have I been wrong to think that I saw you cry for the past two nights?"

"So…you discovered. That's embarrassing." I grinned awkwardly. "A bit mortifying actually."

"May I enquire, why you became a soldier in the first place?" She asked. "If killing saddens you so, why did you become a killer?"

"Girl, men make erroneous choices all the time. We call those regrets." I replied. "There are some mistakes which can never be resolved and you'll just have to get more wrong than you originally are."

"What triggered your pursuit of this state then, from the start?"

"You're a nosy one. I like your curiosity." I giggled. "Because men are readily driven by the illusion of power. My primary goal of becoming a legitimized fighter is to impress my honorable father and to obtain my own prestige. Does that sound rational to you?"

"My brother was a soldier." Fae nodded. "The government lured him with all promises of prospect. The assured him of success, paid off his tuition fees, guaranteed his future, granted our family pension, welfare and everything. He set off for the betterment of our nation but never did he return. The bright future he was craving for turned into his last ambition. A dream that never came true."

"I'm sorry for your loss." I said. "He must have fought brilliantly defending your home."

"When you've lived your life on the brink of death for so many years, loss becomes more common than any daily routines. I am not sad. I am just angry. Angry at where all these pointless conflicts end, at where these manmade tragedies lead us to."

"The quest for power is ceaseless. They lead us to progress but also the end of civilization." I said. "If you have to look into the reasons, you will find none to justify any sort of action."

"You don't sound like a soldier to me…Mr. Bears…" Fae gaped at me.

"Oh? And what do I sound like then?"

"I don't know…" She frowned. "A philosopher…a realist…a dreamer…a weirdo."

"A weirdo!" I laughed and ruffled her hair. "I like that one."

"You…have the same view as my father, who never forgave my brother for his decision." Fae said. "He died protecting us."

"Your father died honorably. That would be what I regard as true honor." I nodded.

"Mr. Bears…is an honorable person too…" She added. "Because you have a good heart."

"How can you tell? You reach your conclusion too soon, Fae. And if I am actually plotting something unimaginable without your knowing?"

"You would have done so long ago, just as Mr. KaBoom said."

"I'm a sinner. I'm a devil. There is no turning back for me." I smiled. "But you, I saved you because you're different from us. You're your family's future, your clan's future. You should live, Fae. We'll find a way to sneak you away. You'll find shelter on the eastern outskirts. We don't plan on invading that part."

"That is unnecessary. My home is here. So is my grave." She stated. "You're not a devil. The ones who force you to fight are. I'll stay with you, Mr. Bears, and your comrades, for this will be my way to repay all your deeds."

"You're so…ignorant. You have no idea how much that breaks my heart, to think that my saving you is meaningless." I shook my head dolefully. "Why, Fae, when you have the chance to escape, why do you choose to confront the doom?"

"Because I cannot leave Mr. Bears alone." She said boldly. "You…are the same as me, right? You don't…have your family no more?"

_Darn, how can this girl be so sharp? She penetrates my every thought!_

"You always look as if you can't find the reason to live."

"I've given up my will of living long ago, when a dear friend of mine and my first love is gone." I confessed. "My sole reason for fighting is because of my two worrisome cousins back at home. I cannot let them fend for themselves. But I suppose…it doesn't really matter now. They are all grow-ups so they ought to look after themselves independently."

"You're…really a considerate man, Mr. Bears."

"And if you insist on staying," I paused, tangling my hand in her crimson locks. She stared at me in amazement, almost with yearning. "my reason for fighting from now on will be you, girl."

"I don't know why." She whispered. "But I have a feeling that we've met for a long, long time…"

"The same with me." I echoed.

"Perhaps…it is destiny?"

"It certainly is."

Her lips broke into a rare smile. It shone brighter than the sun.

I wrapped my arm firmly around her, as she rested her slender body against mine.

* * *

><p><span><strong><em>Friday, 26<em>****_th_****_ August, 2016_**

"This is marvelous." Steven whooped, guzzling down his soap.

"I take back my words, Fillip." Michael patted my back gleefully. "Your decision of keeping her here has my full support now, haha."

"Kid, you cook like my mama, no, better than her!" Steven praised, now munching on the potato.

"I'm not a kid." Fae amended with a pout.

"Oh? You look no older than ten to me." Steven laughed. "What do you call a ten-year old girl? If you don't address her as a kid!"

"I'm sixteen." She announced. "Seventeen by next week."

We all gasped and gawked at her skeptically. This girl of approximately 5 feet tall, 5'1" at most, with an infant-like face and youth of spring flowers, is sixteen?

My estimation has been wrong from the beginning then.

"Maybe I don't look it but you guys don't have to stare at me like…I'm some sort of alien?" She snorted.

"I've heard that girls these days mature fast or did I hear the wrong thing? They actually look way younger than they really are?" Steven taunted. "Cosmetics sure are advanced nowadays."

"Don't tease Fae. She's adorable." Michael grimaced. "A natural beauty I believe."

"Shortie is cute too." Fae smiled. We cackled.

"Shortie! Who are you calling Shortie!" Michael cried, standing up at once. "At least, I'm taller than you!"

"By an inch. But you're a boy." Fae said.

"Hahahaha, told you, Mouse, even Fae calls you Shortie!" Steven laughed, totally out of control. "This girl speaks truth!"

"S-Shut your mouth, Long Tongue! At least, my height is less repulsive than that retarded appearance of yours!" Michael retorted, stuffing our adamant tracker a bunch of grains.

"Damn you, picking a fight now, huh?" Steven spilled the food and gripped his offender by the collar.

"Bring it on!"

"Um…er…guys…?" Fae staggered backwards, obviously unnerved by the fight that broke out in the tent. "Mr…Mr. Bears, should we…"

"Let them be." I laughed and savored the rest of the meal. "They're always like that."

"So…Mouse…um…I mean, Mr. KaBoom is a bomb specialist?" Fae asked.

"Yup. He's a weapon expert, half-deaf though."

"And Mr. Chameleon is a sniper?"

"Also the infantry driver, our best tracker there is."

"And you, Mr. Bears?"

"Just Fillip, please." I tittered. "Me, nothing special."

"You must be severely modest, Captain." Fae raised her brows.

"This guy might look humble but he's a hypocrite, be warned! And he isn't lying about being nothing special, ha." Michael simpered. "In fact, until this day, we still have no clue how he's managed to become our captain! Haha!"

"See, my comrades prove my claim." I shrugged and winked at Fae. She looked puzzled, a bit like a child throwing a tantrum.

"I still…don't believe that but…it sounds logical somehow…Why didn't you dodge when I…um…stabbed you in our first meeting?" Fae stuttered.

"So, you were the one who stabbed him!" Steven exclaimed. "Wow, knew something was fishy when I first examined that pathetic cut!"

"Fascinating thing going on here. You two met before our mission in Turquoise?" Michael asked.

Fae peeked at me and fidgeted with her hands sheepishly. "Well…yes, I was…um…your men attacked our village suddenly…took away lots of our people…particularly ladies…I watched them capture my…my mom and my sister…I ran away with a friend of mine…We split our ways in the woods and I bumped into two of your soldiers. That's when Fillip appeared out of…nowhere?"

Michael and Steven fixed their eyes on me with full concentration.

"I was hiding behind the bushes, actually. Got chased down by their commanders." I chuckled.

"Hiding, eh, again." Steven rolled his eyes. "Tell you what, Fae, this captain is especially good at hiding. In fact, this is his strategy of survival. Whatever doesn't look right to him, he retreats in a flash."

Fae stared at me in awe.

"I told you I am not what you think I am." I shrugged.

"There's nothing wrong to act according to one's instinct." Fae reasoned. "I do not regard Fillip as a coward because he did save me. I mistook him for his kindness as aggression though. I thought he was going to do what those vulgar men…were trying to do to me."

"Lucky he caught you in time." Steven giggled.

"Yes…I am the lucky one." Fae trailed off. "My friend…wasn't as fortunate as me."

"Sorry to hear that." We all said concurrently.

"But at least, she doesn't have to live in the aftermath like me. Alone in this world, with no one to cling to."

"Reality is sometimes depressing, Fae. You'll just have to deal with it. We'll keep you here as long as possible." Michael said. "Lucky we fight in team basis. We set our camp in the fartherest end of this forest. No one would find out, hopefully."

"You're not alone. How about become Fillip's bride after the war is over?" Steven laughed. "Didn't you say you want to repay him? Marry him then! This guy is an once-in-a-lifetime treasure, Fae! Simple-minded. Dimwitted. Awfully kind-hearted and compassionate. Idiotic and clumsy at times. Totally faithful and reliable!"

"He sure as hell will treat you well!" Michael laughed. "And I suppose Fillip is thinking of proposing to you right now, hahaha!"

I grunted and punched my two comrades in the guts, shushing them instantly.

I turned back at Fae and smiled apagogically.

She only grinned bashfully and twiddled her fingers.

* * *

><p><span><strong><em>Tuesday, 6<em>****_th_****_ September, 2016_**

Another mission was dismissed. Thought I would die for damn sure if not for the prompt supply of assistance. The Tarr had doubled the quantity of their troops, tripled their size of army. Something suspicious was going on. Our army was defeated, for the first time. The loss was unexpectedly enormous.

We spent four consecutive days on the battlefield. Once or twice, I feared I would never see Fae again. I had never felt so intimidated before. It was as if…as if she's become my only reason to live in this mad world.

The thought of losing her was unendurable. It's been tormenting me so.

We returned with injuries. It's the first time our wounds have been so severe and almost fatal in years. Michael lost his left arm, Steven his right ear. I survived with a broken rib and a sprained leg. If Steven hadn't shielded me back there, I would be the one with the scalded skin.

Order has it that we will retreat for a while, before our soldiers could revive their spirits and health. The Tarr is scheming something deadly, I'm afraid. They must have received help from their allies. It's just a matter of time when we are conquered, eventually.

* * *

><p><strong><em><span>Thursday, 8<span>_****_th_****_ September, 2016_**

I was more than blessed to see Fae still safely living in our camp. When she told me that she had been waiting for us longingly, terribly perturbed and worried about our safety, I thought I was dreaming in bliss.

"Why…didn't you go to…I thought there would be a doctor in the army or something…" Fae said.

"The medical center is flooded with our dying comrades. We're short on staff." Steven informed.

"Our injuries are regarded as minor, compared to many others'." Michael said, rubbing his mutilated limb.

"The war…it's still going on, isn't it?" Fae trembled.

"Of course it is. Do you really think our leader would give up just because of a small defeat?" I said. "They are unwavering."

"And even if you lose?"

"So? How does it matter? I don't think we will surrender anytime soon." Steven said.

"Well…at least…you're still alive." Fae muttered, hugging me for the first time. My heart ached, for some reason I could never comprehend.

I took her action as a sign of affection and concern.

Cuddling this little angel of mine, I assured her that everything would be alright.

* * *

><p><span><strong><em>Saturday, 10<em>****_th_****_ September, 2016_**

The air reeked of rotten meat.

The river was polluted by our soldiers' blood.

The sky once so radiant had no stars no more.

The forest grieved for the death.

I lay there, hands under my head, in tranquility until lips that tasted of roses brushed upon mine. My eyes fluttered opened. A smile emerged. I embraced her and kissed her back. Under the gaze of heavens, I vowed to love this girl caught in ruins.

"There used to be millions of stars." I grumbled, burying my face gloomily in the crook of her neck. She giggled and grabbed my hand.

"Come with me." She invited. I stood up from the ground and followed her. She guided me through the forest. On and on we scurried in the dark until a bright barren area opened before us. I gasped at the striking scenery. Those stars which I thought had been lost re-appeared into my realm.

_Oh, how bright they glisten! _

_Above us. Above this sullied earth!_

"How…come?"

"There are multiple ways of looking at things, Fillip." Fae chortled. "You just…have to find a different angle and a whole brand-new of view will enter your heart."

"You're…amazing, Fae." I marveled at the beautiful night sky and tightened my grip around her.

"When I first saw you, I saw a killer, an enemy." She said. "But now, I see nothing but a man I cherish. How fluctuating life is! My family in heaven must be castigating me right now, for falling in love with the wrong person!"

"I first saw you as an angel." I cooed. "And you truly are. You still are."

"Your perception of me has…never changed?"

"Never. However many times I have to choose, I would still save you from that grenade." I claimed.

"Like how your dear friend saved his wife?"

I frowned and glanced at Fae. "How…How did you…"

"I'm sorry for…for infringing your privacy…" She apologized ruefully. "I didn't exactly mean to rummage your bag…I just…sort of found that journal by accident when I was waiting for your return…And I….also discovered this."

She pulled out something from her pocket, the surface of that cursed sculpture gleaming upon contact with the moonlight.

"Drop that, Fae!" I smacked her hand and the ancient artifact dropped to the ground with a thud. "It's…It's dangerous! It's cursed!"

"No, it isn't." Fae said calmly and picked up the platinum idol. "I've seen this before, in some history books at school. It is true the Egyptians once used it as a celestial symbol in idol worshipping. The idol itself isn't cursed but the will of the man who possesses it is."

"You…You read the journal, didn't you?" I gasped. "You…You…believe what it says?"

"My sincere condolence for your lost friend, Fillip." Fae lowered her head. "I do believe in his mysterious experience."

_Finally! Am I dreaming? Someone else believes in Spencer!_

"How? Everyone says he's lying and that he's a lunatic. Why would you believe it?" I asked, baffled.

"Can we…lie down for a bit? I'm rather tired standing in the wind." Fae smiled faintly. I nodded and we lay side by side on the spacious infertile land.

"I'm not certain of how many portions of his confession are true, but Fillip, it isn't a question of rationality, or validity." Fae said. "I just feel that he's genuine about what he says. Time-travel might sound impossible to some, outrageous to others, but it is one's mind that makes all the impossible possible. It isn't the idol that has granted your friend's phenomenal wish. It is his strong will that has led to his supernatural encounter."

"You're saying…everything is just his hallucination? Or he's the one causing himself the trouble?"

"It can be a delusion to the outsiders. But his experience is definitely real for himself." Fae elaborated. "His troubled marriage, his unyielding spirit and unconditional love for his wife, his longing for their ameliorated relationship, his trust in her return and most importantly, his pursuit of union with her is what traps him in the irreversible loop of infinite events."

"You mean…he would be trapped in that time slope until he could…succeed in saving Giselle?"

"Correct." Fae nodded. "His ultimate wish was to save her. That he knew very well. He was also aware of what he was doing. But the fact is, if it is truly divine intervention, her fate should have been altered. But nope, she still died because her death was inevitable. It was meant to happen. Your friend cast a spell on himself. He would repeatedly return to that day until he successfully saved her. His love for her alone wasn't adequate to change her fate. He couldn't move on without her. In the end, he was fed up with his failures. When one is finally tired of their deed, what they do is realization. He then realized whatever he did was futile. He was permanently trapped inside the loop unless he himself who started it in the first place ended it. So, he decided to establish the most favorable arc, where he would die alongside his loved one."

"Why…it's so unfair…so…" I puckered my lips bitterly, mourning at my best friend's death. "He just wanted to save her…why did it have to end like this…"

"Nobody is supposed to alter someone else's destiny. Your friend knows it too, but his will to defy his fate is so strong that it becomes detrimental." Fae acknowledged. "I…I envy her…."

"Eh?"

She smiled at me.

"That…girl named Giselle…" Fae grinned. "To have someone willing to come back for her, to suffer for her countless times is so…painfully wonderful. Wouldn't ya think so?"

"You're…right." I had to agree with her. "I suppose no one could stand watching their loved ones die over and over again."

"Even if he knew he would fail yet again, he still went back to rescue her until infinity consumed his soul. Your friend…is such a brave lover, to bear all the anguish with him."

"Fae, you're the only person other than me who believes his tale." I said. "I thank you on his behalf. He must be really delighted."

"He already is." Fae giggled, snuggling up against me. "He's now with her, isn't he?"

"I…I guess so." I smiled.

"A day can amount to a thousand years. A man's simple action can account for many others." Fae recited. "In life and in death, souls part and unite. They flow across ages like the water flows in the ocean. People always meet again someday, so there's practically nothing to fear. Your friend has taught me one precious thing though; to let go of the past, as the present is the most eternal. I don't feel no remorse or grudge anymore, Fillip. Vengeance is as senseless as the war is."

"I want to live with you, Fae." I blurted out, holding her close to my chest. "I want to be with you forever. I promise you, after everything is over, I'll leave the army. I will flee with you to somewhere remote. I'll help you retrieve your clan, re-build your village. I just….want to stay with you…always…if you ever allow me to."

"Your wish is my wish, Fillip." She smiled and kissed me. "My life belongs to you from the time you saved me. I have no family, no relatives, no home now. I'd love to go wherever with you."

"I love you."

I should have known our encounter is no coincidence.

It is destiny.

And I know I have fallen for her the first time I spotted her.

_I'll protect you, whatever it takes_.

"I love you, too."

* * *

><p><span><strong><em>Tuesday, 20<em>****_th_****_ September, 2016_**

Time is running short.

Our enemy has retaliated with excellent aid from two neighboring regions.

Our defeat is foreseeable. It is obligatory. But never would we in the name of our nation abandon our last mission.

We made love in the sun. The sex was delirious, compulsive and unforgettable.

Her body danced gracefully in the light. Her skin sparkled. Her tears were delicious. Her moans were beautiful.

Our bodies were combined, our love manifested in our joyous gratification.

I held her in my arms as tightly as she hugged me.

She whispered my name numerous times, vowing to belong to me and only me.

I devoured her in God's witness.

Tonight, we were engaged upon the blessings of my two comrades.

* * *

><p><span><strong><em>Friday, 23th September, 2016<em>**

They say a responsible spouse would never ditch their partner.

As an honorable man would never ditch their dignity.

My time with Fae has been the most pleasant and miraculous.

My love for her has deepened to an irremediable end.

Spencer, if you're listening to me now in your new-found Utopia, I want to tell you this when I still have time to write.

You're right that infinity is the only boundless existence.

My stay with her has been short. It can't even compete with the days any other couples spend together. But our love for each other is truer than the universe, longer than eternity.

I believe in her just as she believes in me. I will save her regardless of all obstacles, just as you've done to rescue Giselle.

I'm madly and uncontrollably in love, my friend, but the time has come where we have to part.

"F-Fillip…Don't…Don't go…let's run away together…you said there's a hidden tunnel leading to the eastern rural area…we can…flee…we'll live together…" She pleaded, her wails pinning my heart with so much guilt and twinge. "We'll find ourselves our own land, rear some cattle…We'll get married officially…I'll bear your kids…We'll live happily ever after like those in the fairytales…So don't go back to the battlefield. I beg you."

"Fae…I can't do that." I whimpered, my answer crushing her with disappointment. "I told you…from the day I became a soldier, I was bound to fight until the very end. I would have absconded with you if I were alone but my comrades need me. I'm a captain. I cannot abandon my team. I've a runaway long enough. I've never truly devoted myself into protecting my own land. It's time to finish things off."

"No…Don't…you wouldn't be able to come back after this!" She screeched. "We all know it! You can't break your promise, Fillip! You said we would live together!"

"We would." I assured. "I promise you I would survive, Fae. I would come back for you, definitely."

"Fillip, we don't have much time. We must go now!" Steven cried.

"Fae, I must go now. You'll be safe in this cave." I said. "Don't ever leave this mountain. Stay here until I return. Until the war ends. Okay?"

"I…" She shuddered with tears streaming down her eyes.

"Look brightly forward, my love." I held back my tears and embraced her one last time. "Don't let my saving of you end in vain. Our child would be born upon next summer's bloom. Live on, Fae, you must. The future we've dreamed of is nearby. Just this once, believe me. Trust me. Our victory is close."

"I…trust you." She nodded at last and crushed our lips together once more.

* * *

><p><span><strong><em>Friday, 30<em>****_th_****_ September, 2016_**

My sin has finally led me to my dire doom.

_Why_, as I kneeled before my angel, I kept asking God _why_.

I am a demon but she is an angel.

I am sinned.

But she is innocent.

Why must you condemn her and leave me not even the last opportunity to redeem myself?

She is in no place to sacrifice for me!

Why, Fae, my foolish love, why did you leave the cave we searched so hard to hide you in? Why did you follow us? Why did you come back to our camp?

WHY? WHY?

Have my love for you meant nothing?

Have my words for you not meant any importance?

Why must you torment me like this? Why?

* * *

><p><span><strong><em>Saturday, 1<em>****_st_****_ October, 2016_**

The autumn leaves witness our fall.

We lost.

Our leader declared surrender.

My two comrades left without any last words.

I watched them fade into the other world.

They bought me just sufficient time to elude our foe. I raced back into the woods and finally met my angel in our camp.

Fae lay peacefully in my arms. She spent her last second of life to shoot me an angelic smile, one imbued with so much hope and despair at the same time.

With a broken breath, she purred. "I'm glad…you're back, my love."

My tears wouldn't stop.

Silly was my angel, to have come back for me.

_Where has our love led us? If not doom, must be our true Utopia._

"Don't be angry with me, Fillip…Please…" She reasoned. "Love…I've finally understood it…if you truly love someone, my dear, you will never die alone and abandon them in this solitary world…You will not watch them die for you either…You will…nonetheless…perish together with them…I love you. Even if our time in this world is short…we'll meet again, Fillip…somewhere…some time later…in this universe…we'll love once more."

"Don't…please…don't..."

I hugged and shook her. She fell limply against me, her blood soaking my skin.

"I'll wait for you on the other side…" She crooned.

**"****Captain Fillip Bears, we have your camp completely surrounded. Drop your weapons. NOW."**

* * *

><p><span><strong><em>Wednesday, 5<em>****_th_****_ October, 2016_**

The defeat is confirmed.

The **_us_** who remain are held captive.

There are still a few minutes before my execution begins, before I meet my dear Fae again.

I am sorry, father, for letting you down. But I have persisted till the very end. I hope you've witnessed my deed and still admit my existence as your pride.

I am sorry, Spencer, for having not lived my life to the fullest as you exhorted me to. I will, however, redeem myself by meeting you on the other side of this world soon. We'll be united and we'll thrive forever as best companions.

I am sorry, Mouse, Steve, for having you sacrifice for me. A contemptible captain I have been. It's you who have taught me the true meaning of comradeship, of altruism and of virtues. Your sacrifice is never in vain, for I shall join you shortly with my dignity retained.

As for my dearest angel Fae, I owe you a thousand more apologizes, for having failed to protect you, for breaking our oath, for being incapable of defending our unborn child.

You once told me though, _a man's will breeds his consequence. A mind concocts Utopia._

_And now, may my will bring me to thou. I will be beyond grateful._

_I've lived many years in solitude, in a life devoid of egress and gratitude._

_But my meeting this angel in ruins shall embark on a new future._

_Just a few more moments, Fae, be patient and we will meet again._

"Captain Fillip Bears, I've always heard of your contribution." I looked up at my executor. Tarr General smiled as he strutted into my cell. "It's an honor to actually speak to you on such occasion. I did watch you fight back there, killing so many of my men. A brilliant captain you are, I must say, with such fierceness and courage. What a pity. Any last words? Would be my most pleasure to deliver your final will."

"My will is already recorded, I'm afraid." I answered as I completed my last entry.

"So, you're ready to meet your fate."

"Always."

I smirked and slammed my diary shut.

_Darkness envelops me once more._

_Death opens a new door for me._

_Light awaits me on the other side._

_And the first face I see, is that of my dear angel's._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **The next story will kick off with our favourite Raccoon twins :) Stay tuned!~ And let's not forget to review :3

**P.S: **Don't worry! I take every comment, even criticism gratefully because it helps me improve and motivate me to write :D So don't worry that I will feel offended. I'm actually very happy that you read my story and review!


	3. The Weeping Crescent: Lester & Stanley

**A/N: **Hi! Another update here. This is probably the last chapter before my next semester begins. I'll get very busy afterwards. This time, the story revolves around the Raccoon twins! And you'll find a lot of new characters too! Hope you won't be surprised. Again, the major genres are dark romance and tragedy. Be warned! And please, do drop a review or two if you can! By the way, in response to Karte's review last time, I want to say a big "THANK YOU". I'm actually beyond grateful that you pointed out the loopholes in my story! No, I never feel offended. I feel more than happy to read your critique because it helps me improve and evaluate my work! Thank you so much! And I'm glad most of you enjoy the story :3

The corresponding names of different characters in this chapter are as follows.

Lester- Lifty  
>Stanley- Shifty<br>Fillip- Flippy  
>Shayne- Splendont (YES! HE'S IN IT! XD)<br>Nana- Nutty (Genderbended!)  
>Petunia- Petunia<br>Seb- Sniffles  
>Rafael- Rat<br>Trevor- Truffles  
>Lars- Lumpy (mentioned in the first chapter)<p>

* * *

><p><strong>01<strong>

The entire factory reeked of putrefying flesh. The pungent choking fetor was mingled with the repulsive scent of sweat. Gigantic machines thumped noisily in coherence with the workers' ragged puffs. The air was flooded with grimy dust and scalding steam. Rays of invisible radiation roamed the place. A distant scold was directed towards a man lighting a cigarette and allegedly slacking off. Almost at the same time, a distinct moan poured out of a whipped mechanic who was accused of his flaws in the previous task. The agonizing groans made a few twitch but none offered any assistance. Everyone remained excruciatingly calm and concentrated on their work, fearing a similar fate like the absentminded mechanic.

Stanley stood beside an operating machine, his eyes focused intensely on the commodities being packaged and transferred to the next section. Brushing off his drenched bangs, he mindlessly wiped away pearls of sweat dribbling down his forehead. He sneezed and rolled up the wet sleeves that had been adhering to his skin for hours. His back ached, his legs numb. The muscles had been stretched to their optimal limits. His eyes, sore and swollen, were surrounded by circles of dark that only revealed how many sleepless nights he had suffered. He rubbed his lids forcibly, striving to keep himself awake. Occasionally, he would pinch himself and let the pain remind him of his duty.

**_"_****_Just a few more minutes."_** He comforted himself.

A few more minutes and his contract would end. He would be freed from this hellish torment.

A few more minutes and his job would be done. He would flee this place with salary and return to his own dear brother.

A light tap on the shoulder made him jolt a little. He spun around and blinked expectantly at his fellow worker, a raunchy engineer with just the very same strained expression. The austere man gestured Stanley to head to the manager's office, with which the teenage boy was more than delighted to comply.

In a severe state of fatigue and delicate mind, Stanley retained an anticipating smile on his face. He trudged upstairs, stopped in front of the office and knocked on the door politely. When he got the permission to enter, he clambered into the room briskly, his eyes darting reflexively towards the envelope on the desk. A beam of joy filled his tattered mind as he proceeded to imagine what he could achieve with this sum of wages.

"This is your salary for the past ten months, Mr. Raccoons." The manager was a young middle-class man with a friendly face, though the friendliness was nowhere to exist beneath his poisonous heart. He nodded at Stanley somewhat as an acknowledgement of his devotion to the industry and shoved the envelope towards the elated boy. "Well, since your contract ends here, you may take your leave now."

"Thank you, Sir!" Stanley mumbled, satisfied with how his work finally paid off. As he mirthfully strutted towards the door, he opened the envelope hurriedly and peeped inside, only to frown later and gasp in astonishment.

"W-Wait…Wait a second, Mr. Smith…I think there's been a mistake." He turned around and scowled. "Shouldn't it be $20,000 altogether?"

"No, it's $11,000."

"What? But the contract says it's $2,000 per month!"

"The contract doesn't say anything. Yes, it's $2,000 per month, minus your accommodation, meal, transport and everything." The man smirked. "Not to mention you've taken three sick leaves. We had to replace you with some temporary staff."

"No! It isn't what we've agreed before!" Stanley yelped, agitated. "This is ridiculous! It's halved! $11,000 for ten months! How could you take away so much from me? This is exploitation!"  
>"May I remind you, Mr. Raccoons, our contract is over here. You're sacked. Take the money and leave."<p>

"No, I refuse. I will not leave until I get what I-"

The manager rang a bell on his desk. Within seconds, two guards entered the room, each clasping one of Stanley's arms.

"Hey! Let me go, you bastards!" The boy flailed his legs hysterically. "Curse you! I work 20 hours a shift, seven days a week, broke my arm once, sprained my ankle twice, got scotched by fire ten times, no holidays, no welfare, nothing for this shitty amount of money? You bastard, you changed the contract! You abused us! You-"

The speech was interrupted promptly by a raw groan. Stanley collapsed to the floor grasping his punched stomach.

"Take him away. I don't want to see this ungrateful, brusque brat."

The guards nodded and seized the sniveling boy, dragging him out of the room despite his persistent protests.

He was tossed out of the main entrance violently, right onto the road, his soft skin scraped immediately by the tarmac. Blood squirted out of his wounds, mixing with a puddle of dirty water on the ground. Propping himself up with his elbows, the boy struggled to wobble back onto the sidewalk. He had ceased croaking about his mishap and had diverted his attention to his grumbling stomach. Only then did he remember that he had been so immersed in his strenuous work that he had forgotten his meal for days. He took a glimpse of the envelope again, sighed resentfully, folded it gingerly and stored it in his pocket. He returned to his dormitory and packed everything, not that there was much to pack. The only possessions were a few set of outmoded, torn clothes which were supposed to be dumped long ago. Nonetheless, he had decided to keep them, in case he had nothing else to change.

He staffed an empty wallet, a mini-sized torch and a deformed water bottle into his broken rucksack. Before he zipped his bag, he snatched a pendant containing his deceased mother's picture and a tiny photograph from the drawer. He smiled at the slightly damaged photo which had all its four sides greased and corners crumpled. The photo showed a boy sharing an identical appearance with him. At the right bottom corner, a scribbled writing denoted the boy's name as "Lester".

After packing his belongings, Stanley crept into the bathroom, chucked away his foul work clothes and showered. He rinsed himself thoroughly and bandaged his wounds before putting on a clean green T-shirt and a set of unstained pants. When he reckoned he was ready to depart, he slung the bag over his shoulder and scrambled out of the spooky building.

The day hadn't gone as smoothly as expected, but at least, freedom was on his way. He ruminated about things he would do when he got home, how he would surprise his brother with his return and what they would have for their first feast. He got onto a shuttle bus and evaded the devilish place at once, finally able to abandon the distressing memories after ten months of endless anguish.

**02**

Lester awoke to the extreme light filtering into his room. The sun was soaring high as the birds chirped to signify the beginning of another new day. _Another awful day of living hell._

The pale-faced boy yawned and stretched his arms. Just then, the bell rang and caught his attention. He slid giddily out of his terribly thin blanket with numerous holes on it and tottered towards the door. He opened it still half-consciously and saw an energetic face grinning at him.

"Hiya, Lester, morning." A peculiar girl in a distinctive, laced dress of sharp yellow colour greeted him with a lollipop stuck in her mouth. Her wavy shoulder-length hair was tied messily in a bun, tangled in several candy-shaped hair clips. On hearing her husky voice, the boy snapped out of his semi dreamy state and pried open his eyes.

"Nana!" He blushed in embarrassment and took a few steps back, as if it would help to hide his debauched and unkempt image. He hadn't expected a visit from his crush this early in the morning, not that he wasn't pleased to see her. In fact, he was beyond ecstatic, though his expression remained more astounded instead.

"Well, am I interrupting something?" The eccentric girl popped her head through the door and peeked into the measly apartment, not realizing how her abrupt appearance had startled the young timid boy.

"No…of course not!" Lester scratched his head. "But…how…how come you're here?"

"Just to check on you, boy. Haven't heard you in a while. Thought you're up to mischief again, haha." Nana laughed and bounced into the room leisurely, wielding her candy in excitement. "By the way, I've recently discovered a new brand of chocolate called Massi or something. They're selling it in the supermarket! And hell, it's like the most delicious thing ever made on earth! You've got to try it, Lester! The sweetness, the texture, the liquid that leaks out when you munch it and the beautiful crunching sound it gives! Oh! But it's so expensive. Can't afford any more of it after replenishing my stock with a hundred packs!"

"A hundred packs!" Lester exclaimed. "That's…really…er…Nana, consuming such amount of snacks isn't…er…good for your health!"

"You bet. I'm still safe from diabetes~" Nana stuck out her tongue and scampered around the room. She flung herself onto the outwork couch. A creak was heard as she swung her legs sluggishly on the unsteady furniture. "Plus, Seb will always cure me if anything happens to my body."

Lester gulped uneasily as he heard the obnoxious name, the one which belonged to her fiancé and hence his long-term rival. He could never comprehend how that aloof, unsympathetic scientist ever appealed to a jolly girl like her. And perhaps opposites do attract somehow.

"Oh, Lester, someone left a parcel outside your door." Nana said, dangling her legs forth and back. "I almost tripped because of it."

"Really?" The boy frowned and tramped outside, wondering if it was something from his sibling. The parcel was wrapped roughly by some grey, molded paper. Its abhorrent appearance and extremely small size made its existence way too insignificant for anyone to even notice it. Lester heaved it up tentatively and shook it. The objects inside clashed with clattering sound, driving the boy curious. In addition to the parcel, Lester picked up a pile of letters and walked back into the disarrayed apartment that had long been deprived of repair and maintenance. The place looked grisly and repellent, with almost all its wallpapers peeling off and every corner occupied by spider webs. Neither Lester nor Nana, however, was bothered by the flat's nauseating condition.

"What's it?" Nana blinked inquisitively at the crudely-wrapped parcel.

"I don't know." Lester shrugged and ditched the letters on the table. He flopped down next to Nana and started to open the unexpected gift.

Inside was a letter that informed him of Fillip's death, a diary that belonged to the captain and an ancient artifact which presumably was the only possession left of the deceased soldier.

The two spent some time reading the diary and examining the platinum idol. To his cousin's death, Lester could only respond morosely.

"I'm sorry." Nana muttered, chewing last bits of her lollipop.

"That's okay." Lester said. "I'm just a bit…shocked. I thought he would…survive."

"Life is full of uncertainties and probabilities." Nana said casually. "At least, his wish did come true. He died honorably."

"That's…depressing." Lester sighed. "I wonder…how Stanley would react to this."

"Were you guys that close?" Nana furrowed her brows. "In fact, I've never heard that you have a cousin."

"Well…actually…we aren't really cousins…" Lester mumbled. "His father is a colonel…He's my mother's half-brother, so that makes him our…half-cousin, I guess? I don't know…We weren't exactly close to each other, considering my mom used to be quite detached from the family. But we went to the same high school so we've been aware of each other's existence. He did offer us a bit help during the hardest times back then, before he went off to join the military."

"I see." Nana nodded. "No wonder I've never seen this…er…Fillip guy."

"I hope he's at peace now." Lester stood up. He lumbered towards the book shelf and placed the diary on it, along with the painted idol.

"Do you believe in fate?" He asked with his back facing Nana. The girl rummaged in her pocket and pulled out a couple of sweets indifferently. After a prolonged pause, she replied "Maybe."

"How are we supposed to control what is to happen in our life?" Lester babbled as he walked towards the table and tore open the letters, each displaying lists of bills and debts.

"If something is fated, I don't suppose you can control it." Nana asserted. "It's precisely the sense of powerlessness that incites one to make improbable wishes. Why do think people dream? If everything is ever so perfect, there is never a room for dreams and ambitions."

"You're right." Lester threw all the letters into the bin.

"Do you need help?"

"Nah…we'll be fine." Lester feigned a smile. "You know Stanley doesn't like accepting help from…outsiders."

"He wouldn't know." Nana argued. "Tell him it's your own earning."

"No, seriously, you don't have to do anything for us." Lester looked away glumly. "Thank you for caring though. We can manage everything on our own."

"If you say so." Nana pranced towards the boy and stroked his cheeks. "Still, if you need anything, I'll be happy to drop by and help out."

"I think it's better for you not to come so frequently." Lester murmured, gazing passionately into the girl's emerald orbs. "Mr. Anteaters doesn't like to see you with us…right?"

"Seb might look unsociable and stingy, but he's not as spiteful as you think." Nana chuckled. "He has no problem with you guys. He only interferes with my things when he is… overtly worried about me."

"Do you…um…love him?" Lester asked and immediately regretted it. He didn't know why such a malevolent question would even escape his lips so automatically. After all, it was something he had been pondering over and over again for a while. When he first recognized his affection for Nana, he had been thinking repeatedly if there was ever a chance between them. Obviously, there wasn't. It remained a mystery though why a happy-go-lucky and liberated being like her was attached wholly to an impassive nerd.

"Oh, I love him very much." Nana smiled. "He's such an intelligent soul."

"But he always…ignores you." Lester said.

"That's because he's busy with work." Nana explained. "He gets carried away by his experiments easily, haha."

"I still think he ought to…spare more time with you. You're always so committed to your relationship, way more than he is."

"That's not true." Nana tittered. "Come here." She grabbed Lester's hands and led him into a room. She lowered the blinds and turned back to him. Without a second thought, she started undressing herself.

"N-Nana?! What are you doing!" Lester's face reddened as he gaped bashfully at the scene. The girl only smiled and continued to unzip her dress until she stood only in her undergarments.

"Take a look at me, Lester." She requested. The boy had turned his face to a wall, refusing to stare at the half-naked body. "It's alright. I'm not nude."

Lester hesitantly glanced at Nana and was instantly taken aback by the blemished body. Stitches stretched from place to place. A deep, long scar extended from her right shoulder to her abdomen. All the visible marks looked old but severe. No one could imagine what had ever happened to this seemingly innocent girl to have induced such a massive destruction to her beautiful figure.

"I used to be an undercover agent." Nana confessed. "Life was so difficult at that time I had to do anything to make a living. That's why I understand your situation very much, Lester. I've lived through every humiliation and suffrage a human can possibly withstand. I know how it feels to be socially isolated, forsaken and maltreated. There are times when you're absolutely alone in this world, with no one to cling to, and you know no matter how you beseech for mercy, no one would give you any charity. You shift between life and death, hope and despair, pain and lunacy. Survival becomes the utmost and sole thing you strive for. I'm not exactly who you think I am, to be honest. I'm a sinner. I've done a lot of unpardonable things. This hideous body gives the best evidence of my crime."

The girl smiled and traced her thin fingers around the pink scratches. "When I thought nothing could ever save me from this warped world, my savior appeared. He led me out of the darkness and sutured my wounds. He stitched my broken pieces back together. He cured me. He accepted me. He changed me. And that's how I've become who I am right now."

Lester didn't say anything. He was caught in too much surprise by Nana's sudden confession. The girl dressed herself again and strode out of the room.

"I owe Seb my life, my soul and hence I'll live and love only for him." Nana proclaimed proudly. "At times, the old memories still haunt me. The agony is still there, but I can always quell the pain with sweets. And the regret keeps me moving. It reminds me of the numerous errors I've made and how fortunate I am to have encountered him. If you ask me, I would say this is my fate."

"I see…" Lester felt somewhat hollow inside. He was glad but at the same time downhearted. Strangely, Nana's words made him think of Stanley. And now he realized his feeling for Nana could hardly amount to love, but rather simple affection evoked by the similarities in their fates. He was impressed and deeply touched and for some reason, he was yearning for a person who meant more than everything on earth to him.

"When life's giving you a hard time, you'll just have to fight back." Nana said, jingling a few gummy bears playfully. "When you feel bitter, you'll just have to find some sweetness in your life. Ain't I right?"

The girl laughed and skittered out of the door. "You know, Lester, you're a very special friend of mine. I wouldn't like to see you or Stanley in any trouble. So, as I've said, if you need any help, call me."

"I will." Lester smiled. "Thank you, Nana."

"See ya later."

**03**

"How's it going, dude?"

Lester stared at the ground silently, pretending not to hear anything from Shayne. The crimson-haired boy did not retreat. He nudged Lester continuously until he finally responded with a frustrated grunt. "What?"

"I asked, how are things?"

"Do you think they've ever been good?" Lester rolled his eyes and glanced at a distant alleyway. The street was almost vacant. With the economic recession going on, this remote part of the city was nearly devoid of any essence of life. Ninety percent of the stores got shut down. Those evicted from their dwellings resided and established their own shelter in the alleyway. Refuse piled up on the roads. From time to time, infants' cries echoed with the whines of the diseased in the deserted zone.

"Not that I remember." Shayne quipped. "Man, it's even harder for us to do anything now with all the shops liquidated. There's nowhere to lift."

"We'll find something useful from the garbage." Lester suggested.

"I'm not touching any of those trashes." Shayne declared. "My brother is drop dead by the way."

"Huh?" Lester scowled as the listless boy kicked the ground in irritation. "What happened?"

"Really, if I wasn't penniless, I wouldn't even consider resorting to him." Shayne said. "I went to his town last week, thinking I might as well swallow my pride and lower my head before him. Apologize to him for what I did in the past and beg him to take me in. But I found someone else living in his house. Only then was I told that he's died a year ago. Damn it, I actually knew nothing!"

"He died? How? Why?" Lester gasped, dumbfounded.

"They said he killed his wife and committed suicide." Shayne reported. "Never thought he had that thing in him."

"That's…dreadful. And the reason?"

"How should I know?" Shayne yelped, vexed. "We haven't seen each other for like, well, 3 damn years, since that time…"

"You slept with your sister-in-law." Lester finished the sentence for him. "Sometimes, I really do think you should introspect about what you've done. How could you double-cross your brother like that? You two are blood-related twins and you laid your hands on his beloved wife."

"It…It wasn't my fault alone!" Shayne retorted. "Everyone thinks that I'm always being the badass. Geez, has someone actually thought in my perspective? If it wasn't for this wicked brother of mine, I wouldn't have been disinherited from the family! He fell out with his own wife. She came to me for comfort and well, what do you expect? I lent her some solace. That's all!"

"You were disinherited because you lost your family's property in gambling." Lester pointed out.

"But still, he never helped me! He even persuaded Father to cast me out of the house!"

"That still doesn't justify your adultery, let alone the fact that you caused her miscarriage." Lester argued.

"I didn't know she was pregnant." Shayne defended. "If I had known that, I wouldn't have…had sex with her. I mean, she seduced me first."

"I doubt it." Lester said.

"Fine, I lured her but that was only because she was so tempting. Such a beauty should never be wasted on my shitty brother. Look how tragic it ended- he shot her!"

"She wouldn't have been happier being with you." Lester said.

"That chick…was from a noble class, you know. I thought I could use my charm and coax her into subsidizing me a bit but guess what? She was actually expelled from her family. She chose my brother over wealth!"

"If you didn't make your family bankrupt," Lester said. "I don't even think her family would disapprove of the marriage."

"So you're saying that everything is my fault?"

"Isn't it?" Lester gawked at Shayne nonchalantly.

"Whatever. They're dead anyway. DEAD." Shayne snorted. "I don't care about them anymore. I just need some cash to pay for a meal or two. Got anything with you?"

"I thought I've already told you…I got laid last week…" Lester stuttered woefully. "I just wish…we wouldn't be evicted when Stanley returns…"

"Listen, mate, I've got a brilliant idea if you would listen." Shayne sniggered.

"Can that idea of yours earn us any money?"

"Sure, it can." Shayne draped an arm around Lester and whispered into his ear. "If you dare to venture."

"What…are you plotting this time?" Lester widened his eyes and glared at his impoverished friend.

"Look, you know Lars Moose?"

"Lars Moose?" Lester frowned. "Sounds a bit familiar…"

"He's the CEO of several international corporations and the head of Daily Acorns, the newspaper my brother used to work for. He lives just a couple of blocks away, the only millionaire in this district."

"No, no, no, don't tell me you-"

"Yes, I've stalked him a few times. His house is unusually plain and simple but I've checked the interior and everything inside is worth at least a hundred thousand. You might be surprised but there are actually no security guards, no surveillance, not even a single camera! Breaking into his house is almost like a piece of cake. So I'm thinking if you would like to-"

"No, I don't burgle…" Lester declined the invitation straight away, bearing in mind the dire consequences of being caught.

"What are you now? Pretending to be a goody-goody?" Shayne teased. "Didn't you pocket-lift and smuggle with me? What happened when you stole a car with me last time? What's burglary compared to these deeds? It's just the tip of the iceberg and you're rejecting me so soon? Haven't you thought about your current adversity? What to do with your life? How to clear your father's debts? How to feed yourself? How to explain to Stanley you've earned nothing during the time he's away working so hard in the factory for your sake? How are you going to-"

"Urgh, enough! I get it! I get it! I'll do it, okay?" Lester lashed out. "Are you sure it's really that easy to mug him?"

"Absolutely. I did all the research. This guy isn't like any other millionaires. He never acts like one. He keeps his life mundane like an ordinary citizen. He always has a terribly low profile but well, no such golden opportunities can escape the cautious eyes of Shayne Squirrels! Haha! We sure as hell are going to make a fortune ransacking his house!"

"I still think it's a bit…risky…what if-"

"You'll never succeed if you worry so much in your life!" Shayne hollered. "Life is all about taking risks and making advances! Be a wimp and you're never going to get any luck! No crime is bigger than poverty, ya know?"

"Um…okay…" Lester sighed aversely.

"That's it. I don't befriend someone with no guts." Shayne snickered.

Lester didn't debate with his companion anymore, knowing well he would always submit to Shayne's manipulation in the end. A silhouette caught his eyes from afar. A familiar figure crept into an alleyway, leaving the other two boys rather intrigued.

"What's he doing here?" Lester glowered at the man in long white laboratory coat.

"You know that guy?" Shayne asked.

"Sort of…He's a friend of my acquaintance." Lester said, watching Seb stop in front of some homeless families and converse with them. He couldn't hear what he was saying though.

"Ha, apparently he's up to no good." Shayne commented.

"What? Why?"

"He's a treacherous asshole. He's been coming here regularly these days, to take samples from those people." Shayne paused, noticing the bemused expression on Lester's face. "What? You don't know what he's doing?"

Lester shook his head.

"You're so dense. He's a scientist. He comes here to maneuver people and trick them to become his target of experiment."

"Are you serious? That's impossible!" Lester cried.

"Believe it or not, I've seen him taking out hypodermic needles and injecting things to those ignorant beggars a couple of times. Sometimes, I see people follow him out of this place and never come back. Obviously, he's dispatched here to prey on the uneducated, naive homeless. I don't know what big company or lab he works for but sure enough, he's skilful at luring people to partake in those trial experiments. You know, the ones that require humans instead of animals? You get paid a lot if they find your body suitable and able to contribute to beneficial and promising results. No safety guaranteed though. It's a bet on your life. Either you live with your reward or die sacrificing for the advance of science and technology."

"That's so immoral. And I thought things like these are…illegal." Lester cried.

"Lester, do you know where we are? Right now?" Shayne laughed. "Do you actually think that someone would even notice if people like us go missing? This whole damn place is a zombie land! No one cares about strays, especially those without a family to start with. That's why they come here to look for human targets to experiment on. Cheap, easy to exploit, prone to deception and money trick, defenseless against power and authority. I would say, even the society is more than pleased to get rid of the worthless vermin."

"But…shouldn't they realize the potential risks…They could have lost their lives!"

"No one could save them, Lester. Survival itself is a gamble. Every step is a bet on luck, a bet on chance, on destiny. Unless you give up your life right from the start."

"Shouldn't we….stop them?"

"Hey, would you be stopped if you got an opportunity to get rich? Imagine a life without debts, pressure, burden, sadness! Imagine a life freed of poverty, of inferiority, of exploitation, of degradation! You can travel anywhere you want with Stanley! You can buy whatever you like! You can even charm the girl you love! See the magic money does, Lester! Why would you care about your life if either option will render you doomed? When there's nowhere to go, no one to turn to and when you're lingering between starvation and death, and when nothing else in this world can get worse than your present state, even the implausible would become plausible out of the blue, the inappropriate appropriate, the horrifying pacifying. If you've the likelihood to win the lottery, would you simply skip the chance and give it away to someone else? Would you? Would you?"

"I…" Lester stammered in dejection. "I suppose…not."

"See? Told ya."

**04**

A whirl of cool air slapped Stanley's bare neck, sending shivers down his spine. Bizarre serenity reigned over the street. The once so congested, boisterous market was now nothing but wreckage. The shops he once patronized were long gone. The only thing that resonated with his mind was desolateness. He stopped at a road sign that read "Starry Avenue". Just a few more meters would bring him to his own residence, yet another paltry, gruesome nest in the district.

"Stanley? Is that you?"

A tender voice yelled, causing the boy to freeze on the spot.

A young lady dressed in stripped cerulean dress peered out of her window, waving joyously at her buddy.

"Petunia?" Stanley turned around and mouthed, somewhat nonplussed to see his secret crush. He must have forgotten she lived there.

"It's really you!" Petunia whooped exultantly and beckoned to the boy. "Wait there, Stanley. I'll come down in a minute!"

Stanley stood motionless on the road. He heard some banging of doors and shuffles of scurrying feet. Within seconds, the elegant girl emerged before him with a glittering smile.

"Let me see…" Petunia ogled Stanley in amazement and caressed his tanned face. "Gosh, it's almost like a dream. Man, you've changed a lot. I haven't seen you in ages and I thought you've moved out. Where have you been? A lot have happened recently! You didn't even call or write! When I thought I could talk to you, you were gone! It was so sudden and I…I didn't know whom I could count on. I've been through so much trouble for the past year, ya know?"

"Sorry…" Stanley apologized mournfully. "I was…away in another town, working. I never got time to bid you farewell. Thought I would come back soon but before I realized it… a year had passed. I miss you and Lester very much."

"I'm just glad you're safe and sound." Petunia sobbed. "I lost my best friend, my sister, my mother and two jobs in one year. I was so scared that I would lose another friend when you suddenly disappeared."

"Don't worry, Pet. I don't think I'll leave again. At least, I've decided to stay…um…with Lester from now on." Stanley grinned. "How are you doing by the way? Are things…getting better?"

"A bit better…I found a job at the clinic, working as a psychologist." Petunia moped. "Life is hard these days, Stanley. A lot of people have moved out. Everyt'ing's collapsed along with the economy. For once, I thought you were blackmailed by those loaners and compelled to leave."

"No, I was just trying to earn enough to clear our debts and mortgages." Stanley sighed bitterly. "I hope Lester's doing fine. Have you seen him lately?"

"I…don't think so…Perhaps he's still hanging out with…that insolvent thug."

Stanley growled as the image of Shayne flashed across his mind. The notorious gangster had been twisting around Lester's finger for a while, cajoling him into various illegitimate activities and imposing all sort of adverse influences on his pure mind. Nothing, it seemed, Stanley had done so far could successfully protect his brother this languid delinquent and every time he thought of them wandering in the street running into mischief, his heart ached. He would blame his inability to discipline his own sibling and feel that all the endeavor he had made in raising him went down in drain.

"Stanley? Stanley?"

The boy's train of thoughts was cut swiftly by a series of ringing tones. Stanley blinked hollowly at Petunia, who was trying to hint to him that his phone was ringing. The boy took out his cell phone and answered the call.

It was a call from the police station.

It took him less than a minute to register the words from the other side of the line. His brother was arrested for attempted burglary, together with his accomplice who indisputably was that good-for-nothing Shayne. Stanley's face remained expressionless, as if he had foreseen the ordeal long ago and it was absolutely no new episode. Leaving his brother alone for such a long duration was doubtlessly an unwise choice, the worst mistake he had made so far.

"What? What's it?" Petunia asked in apprehension, seeing how the boy's face had turned ashen.

"Sorry, Pet. Some emergency just came up. Got to go." Stanley tucked his phone back into his pocket quickly and darted towards the crossroads. "Will catch ya later!"

"Okay…" Petunia nodded and watched the boy scuttle away.

**05**

Tears trickled down Lester's face as he rubbed his hand against his smacked check. He glared at his brother, who seemed utterly unfazed by his wailing. They were outside the police station. A confrontational reunion was definitely not the best remedy for them after having been separated from each other for so long. The twins had always been inseparable. The extended partition only stirred up more sentiments within them.

"B-Brother…"

Stanley scowled and yanked Lester up from the ground. Without a single word, he cuffed his cheek again, this time with so much force that Lester lost his balance and fell straight onto the ground. The younger boy whined as more tears welled up in his eyes.

"DO NOT CALL ME BROTHER!" Stanley snarled. "I don't remember having a brother so blatant and presumptuous! What did I tell you about stealing? Say it!"

"It's a shame…to the…family…" Lester blubbered.

"Don't you remember what happened to Dad? Or have you forgotten how much we've suffered because of his crime? And Mom! Did her death mean nothing to you? Did her last words get bounced off your ears like trash?"

"I'm…I'm…sorry…"

"Don't tell me you're sorry! You know well what you're doing! It's sinful, illegal, wrong! Still you tagged along with that degenerate punk! You disappointed me, Lester. All this time I was working so hard for you and you only knew how to repay me with more and more trouble! Next time, if this happens again, I'm so not going to bail you out! We're no brothers anymore!"

The younger boy nodded and continued weeping.

"GET UP!" Stanley bawled and hoisted his brother up ruthlessly. "If you've seen this coming, you've no right to cry about your fall! You disgust me."

Lester sniffled and wiped off his tears, his cheek still swollen in searing pain.

"Sorry…I'm…sorry…so sorry…" He sputtered, trembling. He didn't intend for things to end like this either. How had the outcome become so twisted? When he and Shayne thought they were finally able to triumph once in their lifetime, Lars' secretary suddenly showed up and caught them trespassing the Moose property. They were caught red-handed. There wasn't even a chance for them to defend themselves.

And disheartening his brother was definitely not his primary goal. He was meant to impress him. He had planned to use the loot to buy something to cook. He had run out of ingredients to even make a home-welcoming feast.

Stanley shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He was enraged, upset and fed up, but he couldn't bear to castigate Lester anymore. The guilt plastered on his face was such an unendurable sight. And he realized he could never be livid enough to abandon his brother. Regardless of what he did, he would always condone and tolerate his flaw.

"Stanley…please, don't ignore me…I promise you…this won't happen again…" Lester whimpered. The older boy sighed and wrapped his arms around his hopeless sibling bleakly, feeling his fury ebb away slowly as the compassion grew.

"Don't make me worry so much about you, please." Stanley grumbled, his voice smoothened by his own sobs. "I don't mind losing everything but you, you're the one thing I can't afford to lose…Money, we'll think of ways to earn it. It isn't worth getting yourself imprisoned. Or do you seriously want to never see me again?"

"No! I…I will never think that! I just thought…I could bet on it…and then we could lead a far better life than this…" Lester said. "I'm sorry…"

"My life is good as long as you're here with me, brother." Stanley whispered. "Or who do you think I've come back for? I miss you so much, so much that I got distracted every second in my work by the mere thought of you. I regretted leaving you. I should've stayed here with you all the time."

"I miss you too." Lester whispered. "Those nightmares…they've never left me in ease…I kept thinking you would find life so much more glorious in another town and never come back again…"

"Don't be silly. I'll always stay by your side."

"R-Really?"

"Of course. Let's go home."

**06**

Stanley took out a few banknotes and handed them to the landlord. The miserly wizened woman snatched the money begrudgingly and shot the brothers a disdainful glare.

"Next time, I'll be sure to kick you out if you don't pay the rent on time." She threatened and swaggered away, leaving the twins speechless for a while.

Stanley gazed back down at the remaining sum in his wallet. There wasn't much left after paying a small portion of debts, the rent and bailing Lester out, but the rest was sufficient to sustain their life for a couple of weeks, if they managed to remain thrifty.

Lester didn't dare say anything after observing his brother's disconcerted face. He knew he was in no position to propose any ideas. He had caused Stanley enough problems just by scheming on some malicious and disastrous burglary. And seeing how wounded and shabby Stanley looked only proved how much predicament he had gone through for the past ten months just to earn them a few thousand dollars. His brother had been devoting himself to safeguarding their living. In contrast, he had been goofing off and burdening the family even more.

The brothers had some stir-fried spaghetti with mushrooms, prawns and scallops for dinner. The meal was considered pretty decent for them. They had not been able to savour anything genuinely in a while. Their reunion was carefully treasured. They chatted, joked and laughed for hours. They told each other tales of themselves during the days they were living on their own. They discussed their future plans and dreamed about migrating to the Moony Bay, a place they reckoned as a fantastic location to start a new chapter in their life.

"To lie under the crescent moon and admire the bridge would be bliss." Lester chortled as he lolled down on their bed.

"I heard the city is like New York. There're so many marvelous things going on there. A city that never dies. We'll find a lot of chances there. No one will even recognize us. No one will remember us. We're free on our own. We can do whatever we want." Stanley added, climbing onto the bed after changing into a set of pajamas. He was dog-tired but oddly, he wasn't ready to sleep yet. He stared at his brother, his eyes roving over the spot he had previously slugged. A sense of remorse immediately bubbled up in his heart.

"What's it?" Lester inquired, looking ardently into his twin's limpid eyes. He could see his own reflection in his pupils. The eyes were veiled by a sheen layer of tears.

"Does it hurt?" Stanley touched the cheek and asked. Lester winced and shook his head. "Not…really…"

"Liar." The older boy buzzed and bent down to kiss the wound. The smooch was warm, mild but affectionate. It was a pleasant sensation to indulge in and before long, Lester found himself uncontrollably pulling his brother closer to him. Stanley gasped goggled-eyed at his mate, shaken by his abrupt zealousness. Lester pressed his twin town and straddled his hips, fervently sealing their lips together.

"Hmmm….what're you…doing?" Stanley broke the kiss and frowned in bewilderment, to which Lester only responded with an unperturbed shrug.

"I…I've dreamed of you many nights, Stanley…" Lester professed meekly. "I…I've dreamed of doing things to you…It's weird I know…I must be…going crazy. I love Nana but my mind…my mind is all about you. Somehow, I want to kiss you…Sorry, is it sickening? I must have lost my mind."

"No, you're not the only one feeling….queer..." Stanley crooned, his eyes flickering to one corner of the room. "A few times, my urge to see you was so strong that I almost thought about fleeing the factory and returning to your side…Life is such a hell without you around me, Lester. You don't know how much I miss you, how often I think and dream of you. You're the only thing I've got left in this world. Even Petunia doesn't belong to me. But you, you're always mine. No one understands and loves you better than I do. So, don't ever leave me..."

The younger boy shushed his brother with another kiss. Stanley returned the kiss eagerly. As the night closed in, the two undressed each other and engaged themselves in vigorous sex, unleashing every single bit of their heartfelt yearning and flaming passion through their jubilant moans. Having restrained themselves for the past ten months, the two found it challenging to cease their raging session. They squirmed in their own embrace, groaned one another's name and satiated each other's long-neglected desires.

The day had been long and arduous. Yet, their reunion remained blissful.

**07**

Lester listened in tranquility to his twin's steady breathing, his eyes falling unwillingly on one particular object shimmering nearby. The platinum statuette possessed an unsightly and eerie face. The fascinating part was probably the gaze in those deadpan eyes. They reflected so much of the spectators' thoughts. And through the macabre aura it concocted, one couldn't help but conjure up a series of sentimental moments and surrender to all sorts of wishful thinking. Like any other superstitious rituals, the conquest of one's senses and conscience was readily driven by a state of fragility and inferiority, and the tendency to believe that one's destiny could be altered, in one way or another.

At the moment though, Lester was completely swept away in his surreal realms. Multitudinous thoughts were swirling in his head. Fragments of memories reminded him of the sinister crime he had committed the previous night. He could almost recall the entire event and play the tape in his brain. He had no clue what had gotten into their distorted minds to trigger such a disgraceful desire. Such an urge to seek comfort for themselves through pleasuring and ravaging one another was simply virulent. He watched his alter-ego's ribs raise and fall, in consistency with his breaths. His eyes were shut tightly. His face looked worn. His body was in a state of muddle. The marks he had left on Stanley remained painfully visible and they continued to manifest his possessiveness and hankering for monopoly. He had dictated and destroyed his brother unreservedly with his own sexual desires. Adding to the pitiful result of their violent, rough sex, the wounds he received from his work were still unhealed. Lester had seen those lesions and gashes but he wasn't brave enough to enquire about their causes. The factory job must have been a fiendish tribulation for Stanley. The bare thought of seeing his brother suffer for his well-being invoked so much guilt.

And that was when he realized he had to compensate for his misdeeds, for all the nightmarish life he had put Stanley through.

Lester decided to seek a new job. Whatever cost it took, he had to accomplish something, at least once in a while, for Stanley. He kissed his brother swiftly, left him undisrupted in his dreams and got out of the apartment. He plodded down the road, desperately searching for any sights of opportunities. The town, nevertheless, was as lifeless as everyone inhabiting it was. It didn't help at all when he bumped into Shayne, again.

"Lester! Hey!" Shayne scooted after Lester, who had turned his back on him and started trotting away.

"Lester, please! I'm sorry!" Shayne caught up with the younger boy in no time and clasped his shoulders. "I didn't mean for it to fail. I wasn't aware of his secretary's visit. Forgive me."

"Stanley doesn't want me to hang out with you anymore." Lester said bluntly.

"Well, he never likes me."

"True. And considering our heist has backfired, I think it's better for us to settle down with some decent jobs." Lester grunted, looking down at his own shoes. "I…really don't want to drag Stanley into any trouble again, Shayne. We can still be friends but if you're planning on something illicit, I'm sorry I don't think I can join you."

"Look, I'm in just as much trouble as you are, Lester." Shayne pouted. "You know Rafael Rats?"

Lester contemplated for a moment before nodding. "You mean, that infamous loan shark?"

"I owe him a few hundred thousands and he's now hunting me down. I need a job urgently. I've been looking for one. I'm not getting involved in any more unpromising criminal activities too." Shayne said. "And yesterday I found something with temporary pay; I'm here to check if you're interested."

"What…What's that you've found?"

"A job working as a guard. Just got to secure a few rooms in a building, ensure that no one breaks in and intrudes the order. Simple as that. The wage is decent. $200 a day. I'm going to apply for it. Wanna come with me, bud?"

"Where do we work?"

"Oh, that is a bit tricky. It's actually a few miles away. We can travel there by bus though."

"So, it's far from here?"

"You can come back every weekend. The job is pretty flexible. In fact, you can leave whenever you want. So, in or not?

"Well, I…maybe I ought to consult Stanley first…"

"What? Why do you have to consult him? You know how protective he is of you. Do you even think he'll let you go alone after how we messed up yesterday?" Shayne bellowed. "Honestly, how much longer are you going to depend on him? You're an individual now! Aren't you short on cash? Here's a rare chance we don't get every day. If someone else makes a faster move, you're done for. I'm sharing this opportunity with you because you're my best friend. Don't piss me off with your indecisiveness. Be a man, Lester!"

"Fine." Lester sighed. "But still, I need to pack-"

"You don't have to pack anything! They've got the uniforms, the daily staff. You can bath and sleep in the dorm. Time's running out. We've to get going. NOW."

"At least, let me tell Stanley…"

"We don't have time for that, Lester! You can ring him later. Text him. Email him. Whatever. Come on, bud." Shayne urged.

Lester faltered for a fleeting moment before submitting to Shayne's persuasion.

The job was nowhere near Shayne's fancy description though. When Lester was brought to a ramshackle building hidden in the most dangerous, alienated part of the city, he realized his life had become more precarious than it already was. He was dragged into the construction, nonetheless, led upstairs and right to a shabby corridor. The place looked gruesome and uncivilized. The acrid stench along with the blood-stained floor was the worst of it.

"Er…Shayne, are you…sure this is the right place?"

"Yes." Shayne didn't even look at Lester. He tightened his grip around his wrist and continued to tread towards the end of the corridor. A few figures began to come clear in sight. A man in a brown trench coat with a stylish mustache smiled at Shayne. His fellows were all dressed in plain, black suits and wore shades. Lester shuddered at the intimidating encounter. Was this man supposed to be his employer?

"I've brought my friend here. This is the one I've been talking about." Shayne reported, shoving Lester forward. The young lad was still oblivious to the imminent ordeal. He blinked calmly at the stranger.

"I see." The man stepped forward, rubbing his chin in muse. He examined Lester's face intently before a crooked grin crept across his cunning face. "He sure is an exquisite beauty."

"Huh?" Lester frowned, puzzled.

"Did you tell him anything about this?"

"No, sir." Shayne shook his head. "He's at your service now."

"What? What do you mean?" Lester interrogated and turned back at Shayne, who could only shoot him a rueful look before mouthing the word _"Sorry"_.

"What's going on? Isn't this a job for security guard?"

"Woah, no, no, no, my boy, this job is much more thrilling than that." The man laughed. "You'll make good money. Lester, is it?"

"What? I don't get it. I…"

"Show him then." The man snapped his fingers and immediately, the three stalwart, suited men seized Lester and pitched him into one of the locked room. Inside, the boy was bombarded by an odious view. Several boys about his age, approximately around eighteen or so, were crouching in some corners, all stripped and chained. As soon as they saw them enter the room, they flinched and huddled together in extreme fright, as if they feared someone would whip them. All of them wore nothing and some had their mouths gagged. They kept silent but the terror in their eyes spoke much more than any words.

The room had barely any furniture. The floor was tainted with dried semen and blood smudges. Lester staggered backwards in horror. He wiggled out of the suited men's grip and dashed towards the door, only to get callously wrenched backwards and beaten.

"No! Let me go! I'm not working as a guard anymore! Tell them, Shayne! I'm leaving! Let me go, please!"

"I'm afraid it's a bit too late to change your mind, Lester." The man smirked. "By the way, you might have heard Shayne mention my name. I'm Rafael Rats, his creditor. Your friend owes me a considerable amount of money and to pay his debts, he's agreed to work for me. I asked him if he knew anyone apt for serving us, and he appointed you."

"What?" Lester gasped and glared awe-struck at his best friend. Shayne avoided looking into Lester's eyes and stared at the ground remorsefully. "What's this, Shayne! Answer me! Why did you do this to me? Why? I thought we're friends! How could you…how could you betray me? How could you…"

Streams of tears rushed down Lester's cheeks as the suited agents tore off his clothes, cuffed his wrists firmly and tied his feet to a rattling chain. He was forced to squat down along with other bruised inmates.

"Well, with that gorgeous face of yours, Lester, I'm sure you'll amaze many of our clients. Do your job seriously and you'll get fed on time plus a proper place to sleep. Don't worry. We care about our workers very much. We won't let you catch a cold or anything. You'll be safe here as long as you behave."

"Shayne…" Lester wept mournfully and stared at his best friend once more. Shayne returned his gaze this time with a sore expression. "You've…always been conspiring against me…haven't you?"

"No…Lester, I…I…" Shayne stuttered bitterly. "I had no choice…Either I turned you in or…I would get killed…There was no other option…I'm sorry…"

"No, you're not!" Lester whined.

"How dramatic. Friendship is always fluctuating, isn't it? Oh Lester, you trust people too easily. Shayne is no loyal pal." Rafael laughed. "People these days can't be trusted, boy, especially when money is in concern. Only the fit, artful ones survive."

"Sorry, Lester…" Shayne apologized again but Lester didn't want to hear it. He didn't even want to hear his voice or see his face. The gang left the room and latched the door. The room fell silent at once.

**08**

For the next few days, Lester was locked in the building like jailbirds. It became more evident that this was an illegal secret brothel constructed in the inner-city slum housing hundreds of sex slaves originating from diverse backgrounds. There were kidnapped victims, preys of human trafficking, immigrants, homeless strays, naïve, pliable boys like Lester who got tricked into making money.

He attempted escapes several times but to no avail. Hope grew dimmer as time rolled on. He got his first client on the second of his arrival and the whole experience could only be regarded degrading and traumatic. He was ravished over and over again, sometimes by sick old pedophiles, sometimes by wealthy men, sometimes by sadistic sex-craving manic. He got three meals a day and five hours to rest. The other times though, he was requested repeatedly by strangers. Sometimes, he was molested by two or three guys at one time. No words could describe his horrid suffering. His eyes had long turned sore from all the pointless cries. At first, he would still squeal and plead. But when he started to see no way of being saved from his ghastly condition, he stopped struggling. The penetration always left him in unbearable pain. He never saw Shayne again or rather, the guilty traitor had never come back to visit him since. It's not like he wished to see him anyway. He just…wanted to be rescued.

He regretted having left Stanley's side. He should have listened to his brother's exhort. He should have played an obedient boy. And his recklessness and gullibility had now plunged him into permanent misery.

He befriended one of the inmates who took the initiative to comfort him, telling him that everyone in the building underwent similar experiences. His name was Trevor, a former teenage sailor who got abducted by Rafael's men in the backstreet after they found his appearance outstanding.

"At least, you have a brother who might come looking for you. People like us are homeless and friendless. They even confiscated my passport and visas. I doubt if anyone would even notice our disappearance." Trevor lamented, hugging his knees drearily.

Lester recalled what he had witnessed earlier in the alleyway near his home, where he saw Seb preying on those strays and convincing them to take part in their brutal experiments. He thought of Stanley frequently. He dreamed of Nana once or twice. Days went by and months passed. Lester soon lost track of time. Every day, the routine began with his awaking to the thunderous knocks on the door. Then, he had breakfast together with his companions whom he had grew quite intimate with as they all suffered the same maltreatment. He would service his clients until lunchtime arrived. It was merely a 15-minute period when he could rejuvenate and reassure himself with some ratty food. The session continued though. And if he was popular, he would have to work overtime and serve a few additional customers. There was no such thing as shift or holiday. The slaves worked every single day nonstop, as long as they were requested and picked up by clients.

What truly petrified Lester was the idea of being purchased. He had seen some boys being directly bought by their customers and they officially became their personal slaves. He couldn't imagine his life as someone else's exclusive sex toy. Up until now, the only sexual pleasure he had ever attained was when he and Stanley did it together. He still remembered that vivid night. Whenever his patron went feisty and hostile, and when he could no longer put up with the pain, he would indulge in the memory of that unforgettable night, where he was fondled and cherished vigilantly by his own dear brother. It was the only love he could feel and reminisce about, the only beautiful remains of his melancholy life.

**09**

One day, the building was invaded and completely surrounded by unknown attackers. Lester was woken by ear-splitting screeches, followed closely by sirens blaring down the hallway. The door was blasted open. Officers holding guns barged into the room and occupied the entire building. As soon as they spotted Lester and the others, they rushed to unshackle them.

The rescue happened so fast that he almost suspected it was just a dream. When he saw Rafael and his gang handcuffed and arrested, he could hardly believe it. And what sent tears surging out of Lester's eyes was the plain sight of Stanley. Trevor's words did come true after all! His brother had been searching everywhere for him and at last, he discovered him in this tatty place. Lester couldn't calculate how many months or years had passed when Stanley suddenly re-appeared before him like an archangel, freeing him from all those barbaric tyrants. He had saved every single inmate there ever was.

He didn't know how to face him properly. The shame, the regret, the grievance were all too much for him to endure. But he couldn't run away either. He could only respond with a feeble whimper as his brother cuddled him. It didn't seem that Stanley was leading any better life while he was gone. The older boy's face was so pasty and corpse-like as if he had been suffering from severe anemia. His eyes remained solid and bloodshot, his skin chalk-white and his body so scraggy that malnutrition would be the only reasonable explanation. Lester hugged Stanley back tightly and cried, whether those tears were shed out of grief or ecstasy was hard to vindicate. There was only one thing he was certain about- Stanley had saved him yet again.

In the end, Rafael and his squad were prosecuted and convicted of forced prostitution, sexual slavery, human trafficking, abduction, sexual violence and many other crimes. The sex gang was exterminated right away but how the police came to locate the iniquitous underground brothel was out of everyone's query.

Lester was brought home safe and treated. For the first few weeks though, the immense trauma and damage to his body rendered him disoriented and incapable of leaving the bed. He had grown so weak that he couldn't even prop himself up. His mind remained in chaos, his consciousness shifting between sleep and wake. At times, he felt Stanley's kisses and tears on his face. He recognized his appeasing caresses. He heard his cries of dismay and the sound of a shattering heart.

He never let him out of his sight again.

When Lester finally recovered, he realized that his brother was getting sicker.

Stanley had refused to tell him how he found out his whereabouts. He would always hug him and beg him not to make another foolish mistake. And the place they lived in had changed. It wasn't the compact nest they used to share, but a grandiose cottage situated in one of the most refined areas of the city. The furniture in the house had been replaced with lavish ones, the ones that Lester had never expected to be able to possess in his whole life. Their residence was now filled with grand ornaments and extravagant decorations. Even their clothes had become deluxe and trendy. It was hard to imagine what had happened during the time he was enslaved. What had Stanley done to transform their poor souls to affluent members of the society? The source of wealth was never explained. And it only mystified Lester more that all the loans their father had left after his death were cleared. There were no more debts and financial problems they had to worry about.

Nonetheless, Stanley's health was deteriorating at a rapid rate. As Lester was reviving his spirit, Stanley was gradually losing his. His fever persisted for a long period of time and every time Lester offered to send him to the hospital, he would shake his head and giggle. "I'll be fine in a few days."

But he never got any better.

"Please, Stanley…I'm sorry…I really am. If you're mad at me, just…scold me, smack me or do whatever you want to me. I wouldn't mind. But why…won't you let me bring you to clinic? Please, let me take care of you." The younger boy pleaded.

"I'm not mad at you, Lester…" Stanley lay still on his bed with a faint smile. "You know I can never be mad at you…"

"Why, then, wouldn't you tell me what's happened for the past few months? How did you…get rid of those debts and buy this house? How did you…find me?"

"I'd always find you, just so you know…So you can't really hide from me, haha." Stanley tittered, twiddling his twin's fingers jokingly.

"I…I don't deserve all this sacrifice from you, Stan…Really, you should've just given up on…someone so filthy and deplorable like me…I'm hopeless." Lester cried. "There's no way to turn back…I wish I had listened to you…I wish I had obeyed you…I wish I hadn't let you down. I'm such an irresponsible brother. All I ever did was cause you trouble and make you fall so ill. I'm so sorry…"

"Listen, Lester, I've never thought of you as someone filthy and deplorable. You'll always be my brother regardless of what happens. And if you seriously think you owe me so much, then, promise me, in our next life, you'll always obey me, serve and please only me, love me with all your heart and nothing else…Do as I tell you to, live and die as I commend you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, you know. Even if you're lost, I'll go looking for you. Wherever you are, I'll catch you…catch you in my arms…So, don't be sorry…it's my duty to look after you as your older brother…"

"You'll…get better, right? Right? And then, with this money we own now, we can buy the tickets and travel to Moony Bay. We'll get a drink and have a blast there every weekend. We might even start our life over again there as you've suggested. It sounds cool, doesn't it? Brother, you'll always stay with me, right? Right?"

"Of course…" Stanley cooed, his lids dropping in exhaustion.

"Stanley…Stanley…" Lester wept, clinging to his brother's fiery body. His fever was burning and his breaths had long gone out of sync. Blood seeped out of his lips as he coughed, his hands shivering in spasm of pain.

"I…read Fillip's diary…" Stanley coughed as more blood oozed out of his mouth, his body convulsing in a harrowing manner. "I think he's written something…really beautiful…that girl called Fae…she said _'in life and in death...souls part and unite. They cross ages and time...' _We'll always meet again someday, Lester...I hope when we finally do meet up...our life will be so much more glamorous...I wish we would still be brothers and best mates...I wish you would still stand by...me."

"I would, of course I would! I'll only listen to you then! I'll follow you anywhere you go! I'll never defy you again, Stanley. So get better! You're the only person who would accept and love me. Even back then, Dad and Mom chose to abandon me, but you...you were always there for me. I love you. I love you so much!"

"I...love...you...too." The older boy smiled and clenched his eyes shut. His breaths had become steady at once and so very slowly, they came to a peaceful cease.

A loud lament filled the room and then…all that was left was only silence.

**10**

Lester stared blankly at the indemnity agreement.

_By signing this agreement, you certify that you have read the aforementioned terms and give ANTS Co. the consent to utilize your body in scientific research. Any injuries, physical loss or damage caused by the experiments will exempt any claims of compensation or reimbursement. Please sign to confirm this contract and a sum of $100,000 will be deposited in your bank as a reward in recognition of your altruistic sacrifice for scientific development._

"So, that's the reason why…" The boy mumbled in tears and tore the paper into half.

He picked up the phone and dialed the reception. After completing the check-out process, he marched back into a colossal room. He cleaned the corpse gently with a wet towel, combed its hair, dressed it in a set of luxurious clothes and planted a soft kiss on the forehead. The other boy's lips curved slightly upwards as if to indicate a contented grin.

Lester scooped up his inanimate brother and left the hotel. He drove them to the bridge, on which they sat nestling against each other. The moon was up early, illuminating the entire lake. The air was fresh and aromatic. The sky was cloudless with thousands of scintillating stars.

"I've donated our money to a local charity and a Children's Fund." Lester smiled and grasped Stanley's hand. "You know, I've always dreamed of being rich. It feels so wondrous to have everything you want. It's pretty ironic, really, that we've spent so many years to pursue something which in the end we could hardly make full use of. I thought you might appreciate it if I transferred our fortune to someone else. Those orphans and homeless…sure need money more than we do, don't they? You're such a nice guy, Stanley. I never deserve your forgiveness and generosity. You're the best brother I could ever ask for."

The boy lifted his brother's chin warily and kissed him.

"What's wealth when your mind is bankrupt? What's poverty when you're rich with virtues? What's happiness when your other half is gone?" Lester hummed, gazing up at the dazzling night's sky. "You said we would always stay with each other. I've finally realized it, Stanley, what it means to love somebody. I've always loved you, ever since we were kids. I swear, if I ever got a second chance, I would still choose to be your brother. Next time, we would lead a way better life. We would make our own fortune. We would live and thrive as we please. No one could ever stop us. And we would still love each other as always."

"A day can amount to a thousand years. But my feelings for you will stay forever."

Lester kissed his brother one last time and embraced the body. With one leap, they floated in the beautiful atmosphere. Under the witness of the starry sky, they plummeted into the sparkling Moony River and down they descended to their own realms of eternity.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Yes, I've introduced Nutty and Petunia and Seb into this chapter! You also get a brief view of Shayne and his personalities. He's as villainous as he is in HTF XD One thing you might have noticed is that the characters that have appeared so far are actually related to one another! Petunia is Giselle's best friend. Fillip is Spencer's best friend. Shayne is Spencer's brother and Lester's best friend. Lester has a crush on Nana. Stanley has a crush on Petunia. Lester and Stanley are twins. Fillip is their half-cousin...  
>By the way, the next pairing will be Nutty x Sniffles! It will be more interesting this time because Nutty is a girl in this story! And I've decided to add in two more tales. I will write about Mole x Lumpy (Mabel x Lars) and Petunia x Handy as well! Stay tuned~ <strong><em>And remember to review!:D<em>**


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